


The Things We Learn

by terreisa



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-11-09 17:20:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11109237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terreisa/pseuds/terreisa
Summary: It all starts on Christmas. Emma Swan meets Killian Jones and one fake date later they embark on a year of discovering what makes the other the perfect person for them. A Captain Swan holidays AU.





	1. Christmas: Emma

**Author's Note:**

> This orginally started as a CSSS gift a year and a half ago. I'm slowly working on posting my ff.net fics here and there's a definite reason why I decided to start with this one. Please to enjoy!

The first year Emma hadn’t really noticed him.  Well, she had  _ noticed _ him, anyone with eyes would have noticed the dark-haired, blue-eyed god of a man sitting in the corner of the Starbucks brooding over a laptop.  That had been it, though.  She had just moved to Boston, it had been Christmas Day, and she had been continuing a tradition she had started years before, when she had discovered the coffee chain was one of the few places that didn’t close for the holiday.  Other than the cursory glance she had given to the few others in the lobby she hadn’t looked at them twice and ordered her hot chocolate, setting her laptop up at a table and losing herself in work and refills until the store closed at eight, ushering her out into the cold, snowy night.  Emma had been wrapping her scarf around her neck when she saw the man leaving as well, shoulders hunched against the wind, but hadn’t thought much of it.  She had seen all sorts in the years she’d avoided Christmas at the coffee chain, he was just another background character in the charade that was her life.

 

The second year Emma had learned his name.  He had arrived after she had, brushing the snow from his inky hair, causing it to stick up in quills of disarray.  Emma had already claimed the table she’d used the year before, her first hot chocolate of the day half drunk, cooling quickly, the research for her latest bounty filling her screen and had looked up to see the new arrival.  Once she realized it was the same guy from the year before she quickly averted her eyes to her computer, if they made eye contact he might have decided to sit with her and she didn’t want that.  She’d stupidly forgotten her headphones and she wasn’t the type of person to force others to listen to her music on top of the forced holiday cheer piped into the lobby so she concentrated on the tapping of her keys, letting the other noises fade to the background.  Her attention had eventually been grabbed by his name being called out across the lobby.  ‘Killian’ was an unusual name, definitely not one she’d expected but she realized it suited him.  When he grabbed his drink he headed to the chair in the corner, the one he had been in the year before, and as he passed her he winked.  She had avoided looking over to that corner the rest of the day.

 

The third year Emma had learned his order and that he had an accent.  Emma hadn’t been paying attention, she had been trying to ignore the guilt she had felt about cancelling on Mary Margaret and David.  They had invited her to spend Christmas with them and she had said yes initially but as the day closed in she had wondered more and more what the hell she had agreed to.  There was a reason she spent Christmas at Starbucks, and not only because she usually had no one to celebrate with.  Christmases in her past hadn’t exactly been full of warmth and cheer.  For the most part they had been lonely and downright depressing if she was honest with herself.  She’d only had one good Christmas that she could remember but her foster mother had been found unfit to care for her before the new year and even the good memory of that Christmas was tainted by the ugliness that had followed.  So it was almost expected that she had grabbed the wrong drink.  Her name had been called and by the tone of the barista it hadn’t been the first time.  Emma had grabbed the first cup she’d seen, taken a sip, and almost spit out the mouthful of bitter black coffee onto the floor.  With a grimace she had swallowed and turned to complain that they had her order completely wrong when a warm, rough hand had pulled the cup from her grasp.  The guy, THE guy, was smiling down at her, blue eyes dancing, and gently admonished her for taking another man’s drink.  Killian then proceeded to pick up the cup with her name on it and took a drink, eyes widening and lightly shuddering when he swallowed.  His question about cinnamon in her hot chocolate led to spending the whole day in conversation, sitting at the table that had been hers for two years running.  They had avoided talking about why they had spent the past three Christmases alone in Starbucks, instead talking about trivial nonsense and when they were kicked out at closing they hadn’t exchanged numbers, somehow knowing it would be too much, too personal.  That didn’t stop Emma from trying to find him on Facebook later that night, just to see if the stories he had told her about his life matched up, but Killian happened to be one of those rare people who didn’t seem to have any social media accounts.  She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t disappointed.

 

The fourth year, well, the fourth year Emma learned she was out of her damn mind.

 

As she stepped into the warm lobby of the Starbucks she breathed out a sigh of relief that she had gotten there first.  The relief turned to mild worry because it was already noon and what if he wouldn’t show up this year, that he’d finally found something worthy to spend Christmas with?  She was distracted the entire time she was in line and barely got her own order to the cashier right.  There was still a chance to not go through with her monumentally stupid plan, to just suck it up, plaster a smile on her face for the rest of her day, and field questions left and right about being alone on Christmas.  As she grabbed her wallet to pay she let out a frustrated sigh and realized she’d already made up her mind about what she was going to do.

 

“Wait, is your name Emma?”

 

Emma looked up at the girl who had asked, not the cashier but another barista standing behind her.

 

“Um, yeah…”

 

“Hot chocolate with cinnamon and extra whip?” The girl asked and not so subtly nudging the poor cashier aside.

 

“Yeah…?”

 

“It’s already been paid for by tall, dark Americano,” Amber, according to her nametag, said with a wistful sigh.

 

“Who?”

 

Glancing around the lobby, where the only other person there was one of their co-workers cleaning up an already pristine condiment bar, Emma turned back to see Amber dropping her hand from her headset with a sheepish grin and a blush working its way across her face.

 

“British guy, dark hair, blue eyes, Amber’s crushtomer,” the cashier, Elise according to  _ her _ nametag, said with a shrug ignoring the squawk of protest from Amber. “He’s a regular, nice guy and he tips well.  Apparently he paid for your drink earlier when Amber made sure to be on register when he came in.”

 

Amber’s blush deepened and she walked away to start Emma’s drink.  Despite the humor of the situation, and ignoring the curious and jealous glances Amber kept sending her, Emma couldn’t help but wonder if maybe her plan might actually work.  She refused to dwell on the fact that Killian had remembered her order from one sip of it a year ago, or her name, or banking on the fact that she would be there at all.

 

“Is he still here?” Emma asked, trying not to sound too curious or hopeful.

 

“Amber says yes,” Elise said with a smirk, her head tilted slightly as she listened to her headset. “Apparently he winked at her when he got a phone call and went outside to take it.”

 

“Elise!” Amber squealed, cheeks, ears and neck a bright crimson.

 

“That’s what you get for setting me up on that stupid blind date that I didn’t ask for,” Elise drawled, her smirk turning into a polite grin as she focused back on Emma. “We’ll have your drink ready in a moment.”

 

Stepping away from the counter, confused and very amused, Emma pulled out her phone and saw two texts from Mary Margaret, one from David, and a missed call from Ruby.  The ones from Mary Margaret and David were easy to answer, mostly last minute things she needed to pick up on her way to their house.  The voicemail from Ruby was a little trickier, mainly because Emma could barely understand her through all the squeals but mostly because she wasn’t entirely sure how to answer it without blowing the cover story she was still in the process of securing.

 

“You seem quite vexed for such a joyous holiday,” an accented voice rumbled in her ear.

 

“Shit!” Emma flinched, completely surprised anyone could get that close to her without her noticing.

 

“Sorry, love, I didn’t mean to startle you!”

 

Killian stepped to her side as she stepped back, putting much needed space between them.  He was grinning at her with only a hint of guilt in his eyes.  She looked him over putting on a mask of annoyance but she was really cataloguing everything that seemed to have changed in the year since she’d seen him last.

 

His hair was longer, falling gently across his forehead after he absently ran his hands through it as his grin widened while she looked at him.  The five o’clock shadow of years past was more three days’ scruff but nicely groomed.  Even his clothes were nicer, nothing fancy, but his black jeans and light blue dress shirt under a navy blazer were higher quality than the things she’d seen him in on the last two Christmases.  Not that she’d paid any attention to any of that before.  At all.

 

“You bought me a hot chocolate,” Emma said bluntly, wincing internally at her less than smooth opening line.

 

“That I did,” Killian tilted his head, his grin softening as he watched her.

 

“Why?” She prodded, eyes widening, and then giving him a sheepish smile to counteract how rude she was being. “I mean thank you, but how did you even know I’d be here today?”

 

“I didn’t.  Let’s say I made an educated guess that you would be,” Killian answered with a shrug.

 

Before Emma could suss out the meaning of his statement their names were being called out across the lobby.  She trailed behind him as she watched Amber hand him his drink with a smile that Emma could only describe as flirty.  A flame of irritation danced up her spine but she quickly tamped it down, she had no reason to be upset.  Continuing to tell herself that she was able to keep from snatching her hot chocolate out of Amber’s hand and even produce a semblance of a smile.

 

“No laptop today?” Killian’s question dragged her attention back to him.

 

“Oh, uh, no,” suddenly Emma wasn’t sure she was prepared to bring up what she had gone there to do in the first place. “I’m actually on my way to a Christmas thing at my friends’ house.  It’s a party, kind of, other people will be stopping by, I think, and I’m pretty sure they’re doing it because of me.  Well, not entirely because of me but enough that I have to go or I’ll just feel guilty about not going.”

 

She snapped her mouth shut when she caught sight of Killian’s raised eyebrows, cup halfway to his mouth, and a million questions in his eyes.  With a deep breath she figured she might as well get it over with as quickly as possible.  Rip off the proverbial Band-Aid as it were.

 

“My friends, who are great and mean well, have been inviting me to spend Christmas with them for a couple years.  I’ve been able to avoid it but this year they made it into a party type thing which is nice and I said I would go.  But then they also decided it would be a great opportunity to set me up with this guy ‘I just have to meet’,” Emma couldn’t meet Killian’s eyes as she said the next part so settled on staring at the red cup in her hand. “I may have told them that I’m bringing someone and I was wondering, well more like hoping, that you’d be willing to help a girl out?”

 

Nothing.  Killian hadn’t even lowered his cup from where it was hovering below his chin.  Emma couldn’t bring herself to look at him again.  She didn’t need to see him looking at her like she was certifiably nuts, or worse, with pity.

 

“You know what? Never mind, this was a horrible idea.  Thank you for the hot chocolate and… yeah.”

 

Emma tried to smile but it felt like more of a grimace.  A quick glance at the girls behind the counter revealed that they were watching her with wide eyes, even the one who had been manning the drive-thru window.  She wanted to make a break for her car, take a pill to forget the last five minutes, even move to the North Pole if it meant she would never have to deal with what she’d just done to herself.  At least she wasn’t a regular at this Starbucks, she happily got her hot chocolate from the hipster coffee shop, where she definitely was a regular, as soon as they reopened after the holiday.  She felt a little sad that she’d ruined everything but what did it  matter, it wasn’t as if she really knew the guy at all.

 

Before she could even take a step towards the door Killian’s voice stopped her.

 

“Jones.”

 

She was so surprised by what he said her eyes snapped up to his without hesitation.  He was drinking from his cup, a smile hiding behind the lid, eyes dancing with mirth.

 

“Jones?”

 

“Well, if we’re to do this properly we should probably know a bit more about each other than just our first names and what we order at Starbucks,” Killian said with a shrug.

 

“I know stuff about you.  Like, you’d rather have an Americano over a regular brewed coffee and either way you take it black and, um, you work outdoors?” Emma sighed, knowing she was just proving his point and avoiding the bigger implications it had. “Swan, my last name is Swan.”

 

“Pleasure to meet you, Swan,” Killian bowed slightly, aiming a wink up at her. “So, are we to leave for this party right away or am I allowed to finish my drink?”

 

“You can finish it in the car,” Emma shook her head ruefully. “I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this.  You are agreeing right?  This is you agreeing?”

 

“Yes, Swan, this is me agreeing.  Shall we?”

 

Killian swept out his arm, opening the path to the door.  Emma rolled her eyes and tried to keep her thoughts from running away from her.  She had no idea why he had agreed to go with her.  Well, she had a small inkling she knew why but refused to give it legs to stand on.  No use in getting her hopes up when she didn’t even know what she wanted in the first place, especially when she hadn’t exactly been forthcoming with everything she needed from him.

 

Stepping out of the toasty Starbucks into the cold, biting Boston winter was like dumping a bucket of ice water over her head.  Emma suddenly felt the urge to turn around and confess everything to Killian; that she went to the Starbucks on Christmas to be around people without actually being with people, that she had cancelled on David and Mary Margaret the year before partially because she had been looking forward to seeing him again, that she had randomly tried to find him on Facebook throughout the year with the hope that he’d gotten a wild hair and joined the masses.  She considered it for all of five seconds, up until the moment his arm draped over her shoulders and tucked her into his side.

 

“What are you doing?” Emma asked, trying to step out of his embrace and failing when he tightened his grip.

 

“Getting into character,” he answered easily.

 

“Character?” She looked up at him and he was watching her with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I have a feeling that I will be required to act as more than just a random man you’ve decided to take pity on and bring home like a lost puppy.  If I’m to hazard a guess you’ll be needing me to behave as though we’ve known each other for a while and even perhaps gone on a few dates.  I also believe that we’ll have to be very convincing because your friends will see right through the charade in an instant.”

 

Emma opened her mouth to refute everything he had said but found that she couldn’t.  He knew, somehow he had figured out what she had been planning and it pissed her off.

 

“How?  Never mind,” she bit out, finally stepping out from under his arm and immediately missing his warmth and the woodsy scent of his cologne. “I don’t pity you and I definitely don’t think you’re anything remotely like a lost puppy.  If you don’t want to do this that’s fine, we can go our separate ways. Merry Christmas, Jones.”

 

He grabbed her elbow before she even had a chance to take a step.

 

“I never said I didn’t want to do this,” he dropped her arm when she looked pointedly at his hand and immediately scratched nervously behind his ear. “You’re something of an open book, love.  That’s how I knew what you weren’t quite telling me and that what you feel for me is far from pity.”

 

“I don’t feel anything for you,” Emma was glad it was so cold outside, her blush barely heated her cheeks and if he noticed it she would just blame the redness on the temperature.

 

“Perhaps you should, it would make this whole thing considerably more easy and far more enjoyable,” Killian bit his lower lip and wagged his eyebrows at her, rocking back on his heels.

 

“Hmph.  Just get in the car Jones, we have a stop to make before we make the drive out there.”

 

“As you wish.  Which vessel is yours then Swan?”

 

Emma’s steps had faltered at the quote.  It couldn’t possibly be an intentional quote if he had no idea that it was her favorite movie.  Everyone loved The Princess Bride, Killian was just capitalizing on the opportunity to use it.  There was no way he could possibly imply the underlying meaning of the phrase.  She pointed a less than steady hand at her car.

 

“That one.  Don’t worry she’s safer than she looks,” Emma said with pride.

 

He looked between her and the yellow VW Bug skeptically, “I’ll take your word for it, Swan.  I hope you don’t mind me sending out farewell texts to those near and dear to me while you drive us to wherever it is we’re going.”

 

“Ha ha, keep it up buddy and I’ll make sure to leave you stranded on the side of the road,” she spoke a little louder as she climbed in the car and reached over to unlock the passenger door.

 

“You wouldn’t dare, not on Christmas!” Killian said, mock scandalized as he dropped into the seat and shut his door.

 

“Try me,” she challenged as she started the car.

 

They didn’t go far, just a few blocks over to a Walgreens.  Killian followed her down the aisles as she grabbed the items Mary Margaret had forgotten, making comments about the poor employees and the fantastic deals on the marked down decorations.  She tried to act annoyed but after a badly timed joke and a glare from the one other customer in the store she couldn’t hold in her laughter any more.  Not even when she caught him looking at her with something she would have called fondness if she knew him better.

 

“Alright, Swan, we’ve done the dirty work.  Are we now headed to this dreaded party where we can enjoy the fruit of our labors?” Killian asked as soon as they were back on the road.

 

“Yeah, it’s about a twenty minute drive so we have time to iron out the details,” she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, fighting the urge to glance over at him. “So, um, I’m twenty-eight, I’m a bail bonds agent, I live alone, I don’t have any pets, and I moved to Boston from Tallahassee four years ago.”

 

“Hmm, right.  I’m thirty-one, I own a boating tour company, I also live alone but I do have a dog, I’ve been in Boston for about seven years now, I’m a Virgo and is it too much of a cliche to say I like long walks on the beach?”

 

Emma huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes and letting go of some of the tension in her shoulders.

 

“You own a business and you have a dog?  Where do you find the time to stop in at Starbucks every morning?”

 

“Know my coffee habits do you?”

 

“No, but Amber sure does.  Apparently you’re her ‘crushtomer’,” Emma said in a breathy voice, batting her eyelashes at him.

 

“Eyes on the road, Swan,” Killian admonished, blushing slightly. “Amber has been dotting the ‘i’ in my name with a heart for the past three months.  I’m quite aware she’s taken a shine to me.”

 

“Not interested?”

 

“Not remotely.  She’s a lovely lass but I overheard her talking about getting a fake ID and that’s just a touch too young for me.  I also believe that one of the lads who works with her is finally working up the courage to ask her out.”

 

“Ooo, caught up in all the Starbucks gossip, are you?” Emma grinned, interested despite herself.

 

“I find that Elise is a wealth of information.  Her girlfriend, Jamie, is one of the secretaries for my company. Elise stops by after her shift, mostly to have lunch with Jamie, but also to keep me up to date on the latest goings on at the store.  Our workplace stories are far less interesting.”

 

“If I didn’t already have a standing order at You’re Roasted I might consider watching the drama for myself.  It’s probably cheaper than my cable bill.”

 

“Is that why I’ve only ever seen you on Christmas?  You prefer that pretentious little coffee shop over a huge conglomerate?” He sounds offended but she can see his smile out of the corner of her eye.

 

“They use Ghirardelli chocolate for their hot chocolate,” she answered matter of factly.

 

“I see, it’s all about the quality with you, love.”

 

“Why settle for something that’s just okay when I know that I can get something that’s amazing?”

 

“Why indeed?”

 

Emma didn’t have an answer for that.  She could feel his unwavering gaze on her and suspected he was asking about more than just her hot chocolate preference.

 

“So, um, what’s your dog’s name?”

 

“Roger, a glorious buffoon of a hound but she’s quite the gal,” Killian said warmly.

 

“You named your girl dog Roger?” Emma wasn’t one to judge but it crept into her voice all the same.

 

“Her full name is Jolly Roger Jewel of the Seas but it’s quite the mouthful to call out at the dog park.”

 

“Jolly Roger… Jewel of the Seas?  What the hell kind of a name is that for a dog?” Emma asked incredulous.

 

“Apparently the more ridiculous the name on the pedigree the less likely it will be repeated by another owner.  It all has to do with show dogs and breeders and kennels which I could have cared less about but figured I’d have some fun with it,” he shrugged and pulled out his phone. “There she is the great lump.”

 

Emma took a quick peek at the screen he was holding by her face.  From what she could tell it was a big furry black thing with a pink tongue lolling out of it’s mouth, seemingly smiling a doggy grin at the camera.  She had to stop herself from grabbing his phone out of his hand to get a better look.

 

“She’s adorable and ginormous!  What is she?  And why don’t you call her Jewel or even Jolly?”

 

“She’s a Newfoundland and while I adore her she has proven over time that she’s not nearly dainty enough for Jewel nor willing to answer to Jolly, even when she was a puppy.  It didn’t help that my roommate at the time kept calling her Roger behind my back and that’s the one that stuck,” he sighed, tucking his phone back in his pocket. “So you’re a dog person but not enough of one to have one of your own?”

 

“I can’t, landlord doesn’t allow pets even though some of the other tenants don’t quite follow the rules.  I will someday, when I have a yard and the poor thing won’t be locked up in an apartment while I’m working,” Emma gave a sigh of her own, wondering if she’d ever get to a place in her life where she could have a dog and a house with a yard to keep said dog.

 

“Something tells me you want a house with a yard for more than just the chance at getting a dog, love,” Killian said softly.

 

Emma stiffened, not willing to go down that road, “Look, we’re not going to have that conversation.”

 

“What conversation?” He asked, his confusion apparent.

 

“The one where I tell you my sad little story and you tell me one of your own, or try to make me feel better.  Let’s just, not do that okay?”

 

He didn’t need to know that she didn’t have anyone outside of the friends who would be at the party they were on their way to.  She didn’t want to see the pity or sympathy in his eyes when he found out she was an orphan, abandoned time and again by nearly everyone she’d gotten close to.  Most of all she didn’t think she’d be able to stand him finding out about her time in Phoenix and what had gotten her there.  It was better to just keep it locked away and focus on making it through the party.

 

“Your friends, hosting the party, they’re married, yeah?”

 

There was a hesitance in his question, one that she hated hearing, knowing it was because of her.  She gave him a soft smile, one that showed she wasn’t entirely a lost cause.

 

“Yes, Mary Margaret and David have been married for five, no, six years.  They moved out of the city last year when Mary Margaret got a teaching job at this fancy private school.”

 

They passed the rest of the time going over who would be at the party and sharing small facts about themselves.  Yet despite her insistence in avoiding heavy topics she realized they made their way into the conversation anyway.

 

He’d come over from England for school after never ending encouragement and nagging from his older brother.  It was his brother’s death that made him stay.  Getting Roger was an idea he had with a girlfriend he’d been planning to propose to, until he found out she was still married instead of divorced like he had thought.  He had gone through with getting Roger anyway and he said it was the best decision he’d ever made.

 

In turn Emma told him about meeting Mary Margaret and how her and David had become the closest thing to family she’d ever had.  She complained that Boston had some of the coldest winters she’d ever experienced in all the places she’d lived, even worse than Minnesota.  Killian had argued that it was probably because she’d come from the warmer climes of Tallahassee straight into the New England winter.

 

Before Emma was really ready she was turning onto the street where Mary Margaret and David’s house was, slowing her Bug to a crawl as she kept an eye out for any available spots.

 

“How long, love?”

 

“Hmm?” She responded, distracted by her search.

 

“How long has our dalliance been going on?”

 

“Our what?  I thought your degree was in business not eighteenth century English,” she laughed and then whooped in triumph as she spied a car pulling away from the curb only a few houses away from where they were headed.

 

“Just because I know how to turn a phrase does not mean I shall be ridiculed for it,” Killian said, broadening his vowels and trilling his r’s.

 

“I’ll just have to ridicule you about something else then, won’t I?” Emma grinned as she turned off the engine and quiet descended in the car.  With a deep breath she continued, “But to answer your question I may have started mentioning you back around Thanksgiving.”

 

“Thanksgiving?  You’ve given this a lot of thought, haven’t you Swan?” He looked at her appreciatively.

 

“I had to make it believable,” she left out that she also kind of wanted it to be real.

 

“Did you mention me by name?”

 

“Of course, I wasn’t about to pull a Jan and call my fake date George Glass,” she quipped, belatedly realizing what she’d just admitted.

 

“I like the confidence, love.  What would have happened if I hadn’t been there today or if I’d refused to participate in this charade?” He asked as he turned in his seat to watch her.

 

“I would have had to make up a story about how the guy I was fake seeing had decided we were better as fake friends and then I would have had to spend the rest of the party fending off the real advances of the guy I was hoping to avoid in the first place,” she said with a shrug, twisting in her own seat to mirror him.

 

“Then you should consider yourself lucky that I was so willing to help out a damsel in distress.”

 

“Luck has nothing to do with it and I can save myself, thank you very much.”

 

“Of that I have no doubt,” Killian said quietly.

 

Emma didn’t have a chance to reply.  A blur of color darted past her back window and suddenly there were perfectly manicured nails tapping on the glass by Killian’s head.  He jumped in surprise, nearly strangling himself on the seat belt, causing Emma to snort out a laugh and silently thank Ruby for her impeccable timing.

 

It was easy, to take Killian’s hand as they trailed behind Ruby who was talking a mile a minute about how Mulan’s flight back to San Francisco had been delayed as she led the way to the house.  Emma recognized some of the cars lining the street and her hand tightened reflexively in Killian’s when she spotted Mary Margaret’s cousin Regina’s car, suddenly remembering the forgotten bags from Walgreens that had the sparkling cider Regina had requested.

 

“What is it, love?” He murmured in her ear, voice kept low to keep from interrupting Ruby’s monologue.

 

“This day just got a lot more complicated and we forgot the crap from Walgreens,” she muttered.  Raising her voice she cut across Ruby’s description of Mulan’s custom carry-on, “Hey, I left the stuff Mary Margaret made me get in my car.  We’ll just go back and grab it...”

 

“You don’t both need to go do you?” Ruby asked innocently.  Unfortunately the gleam in her eye was anything but. “Killian you’re coming with me and we’ll meet you at the house.  Okay?”

 

Ruby linked her arm through Killian’s and practically dragged him down the street with her.  He shot Emma a panicked look and she could do nothing but shrug her shoulders and pray that he could hold his own for a minute or two.  She had to keep herself from sprinting back to her car and then up to the house.

 

By the time she made it to the front door of the house she had worked herself into a near panic.  Her stupid idea could have imploded by now.  Ruby was an expert at prodding a person until they spilled all their dirty little secrets, she’d eventually wheedled almost all of Emma’s out within a month of meeting her.  Regina was even worse, she was suspicious of everyone and their motives and had a knack for finding weaknesses and exploiting them.  Emma didn’t even want to think about what questions David would be asking Killian in the guise of looking out for her well being.

 

She calmly opened the door, despite wanting to kick it in, grab Killian, and high tail it back to the Starbucks where the outside world didn’t have to exist if she didn’t want it to.  The living room was empty, not in itself strange since most times everyone gathered in the kitchen or dining room if there wasn’t some sort of game on.  Emma could hear voices drifting through the house, a good number of them from the sound of it.  A chorus of laughter compelled her to finally close the door and move deeper into the house.

 

“... I never would have guessed that a drink as sweet as hot chocolate would be her favorite,” Killian’s voice reached her as she came to a stop just outside the doorway to the kitchen.

 

“What was she doing at a Starbucks?” Regina’s voice sounded suspicious. “She always complains about their hot chocolate.”

 

“It might not be her first option but considering that You’re Roasted was closed for the holiday I believe she had no other choice,” Killian answered smoothly.

 

“Wait, when exactly did you meet?” Mary Margaret’s voice was almost lost in a volley of laughter coming from the direction of the dining room.

 

Emma closed her eyes, praying that Killian would choose any day other than the Christmas from the year before.  The one where she had said she had caught a cold and cancelled spending Christmas with them.

 

“Well,” Killian dragged out the word, she could almost imagine him scratching nervously behind his ear. “I guess I would say we officially met two years ago, although I had noticed her the year before that.  Unfortunately, her discerning taste in hot chocolate prevented me from getting to know her sooner.”

 

“You know, there’s this magical thing called Facebook that might have helped with that,” Ruby said sardonically.

 

“I’m sure it would have if I had one.  I got rid of it after a particularly nasty break-up and haven’t regretted it since.  Well, until now.”

 

On that statement alone, Emma wished she had joined the conversation sooner.  She would have been able to watch him as he said it, carefully looking to find the lie and hoping she didn’t find one.  Instead she was lurking in the shadowy corner straining to hear more.

 

“You know, you don’t have to wait for a formal invitation to join in.”

 

“Shit! Don’t do that!” Emma gasped, turning to glare at David who was grinning widely at her.

 

“Can’t help it when you’re hiding out here instead of making Mary Margaret very happy you finally brought the cups,” David said, nodding at the bag in her hand.

 

“How she forgot to get them is beyond me.  What the hell has everyone been drinking out of in the meantime?  Not her mother’s precious stemware I hope?”

 

“Oh, we had some already,” David shrugged. “I think she just wanted to make sure we didn’t run out.  A few more people showed up than we were planning for.”

 

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I brought some more wine too,” Emma said distractedly, the voices in the kitchen had all but stopped.

 

“Come on,” David said, grabbing the bag. “Let’s intervene before they start really digging their claws into your boyfriend.”

 

“He’s not my…” Emma broke off suddenly aware that she almost blew her own story.

 

“Okay, not quite at the labels yet, I get it.  Then let’s go save the guy you’ve been seeing for the past five weeks and decided to bring along to the Christmas party where everyone will be watching every move between you two along with being more thorough than the Spanish Inquisition when it comes to figuring out his motives!” He said cheerily.

 

“Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition,” she mumbled, once again kicking herself for her ridiculously stupid plan.

 

“That’s the spirit!”

 

David placed his hands on her shoulders and propelled her into the kitchen where five pairs of eyes swiveled to look at her.  Regina’s husband Robin was also standing at the island counter where most of the food had been set up.  With a slight push David dropped his hands and walked over to the table where the drinks were, pulling out her purchases from the bag.

 

“Emma!  Did you get lost on your way back from the car?  I know it’s not as easy to navigate as those well planned Boston roads but I see you’ve managed,” Ruby trilled slinging her arm around Killian’s shoulders. “Has she impressed you with her navigation skills yet?  Who needs gps when you have Emma Swan at your side?”

 

“I think he’d be more impressed if he wasn’t a navigator himself,” Emma said, rounding the island to give Mary Margaret a hug and reaching for the bowl of olives simultaneously. “Merry Christmas, thanks for the invite.”

 

“You know you’re always welcome,” Mary Margaret said with a squeeze. “We were just getting to know Killian a little better.”

 

“Sounded more like you were giving him the third degree,” she pulled out of Mary Margaret’s embrace, popped an olive in her mouth, and looked at Killian. “Did you want anything to drink?”

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.  I didn’t mean to be a horrible host.  We have beer, wine, eggnog and the appropriate add ins, hot mulled cider, and of course water or soda if you’re the DD,” Mary Margaret said as she moved towards the table.

 

“A hot mulled cider does sound nice and I wouldn’t be remiss if you added a splash or two of rum to it,” Killian gave Mary Margaret a wink. “But first I must excuse myself and ask where the bathroom is?”

 

“I’ll show you,” Emma said quickly, avoiding the eyes still watching her. “It’s right through here.”

 

Emma led Killian back the way she had come, veering down a hallway.  When she was sure they were out of earshot and that only he was following her she came to a stop, turning to look at him.  He was looking at her warily, as though he expected her to be upset.

 

“I’m so sorry that Ruby dragged you into that,” she whispered. “They were nice to you right?  I swear if they weren’t they’ll regret it.”

 

“Don’t work yourself into a dither, Swan.  Your friends were the epitome of niceness, although... Regina?” He waited for her nod that he had the name right before continuing. “Yes, well I can see why you weren’t entirely pleased she was here.”

 

“It’s not that I don’t like her, but there’s a lot of history between her and Mary Margaret and while Mary Margaret can forgive and forget, I’m not that nice.  It’s been a bit better since she married Robin but she still has her moments.  Sorry, you probably don’t care about any of this at all.  The bathrooms that second door on the left,” Emma moved to walk back to the kitchen when Killian stopped her with a gentle touch on her arm.

 

“I do care, Emma,” Killian’s gaze was intense, blue eyes practically glowing in the dim hallway. “Your friends are important to you.  I wouldn’t want you to dismiss that because you think I wouldn’t care.”

 

“Killian,” she murmured, if only to keep an awkward silence from descending but somehow she knew it wouldn’t.

 

“Don’t worry, love, by the night’s end your friends won’t have reason to doubt us.”

 

Killian smiled and pulled his hand away.  Emma hadn’t even noticed that he’d kept it on her arm.  He was closing the bathroom door before she came back to herself, confused and a little more hopeful than she had been earlier in the day.

 

He had been right.  The rest of the day had gone by in a blur of food, drink, talking, teasing and only a few more instances of interrogation from her friends.  It was only after Emma had absently pulled a chocolate chip cookie from his hand, warning him about the walnuts in it and replacing it with a handful of gingersnaps, that the questions had stopped.  She belatedly realized that not only did she know about his allergy but also that he wouldn’t stop at just one gingersnap.  When she had looked at Killian he was watching her with an odd look on his face, chewing thoughtfully on one of the cookies.

 

Everything had been going great.  Killian had seemed to have made instant friends with Robin and David and the few other guys in the dining room, none of which were the mystery man Mary Margaret had wanted her to meet.  The women had stayed around the food, picking at it as they talked and Emma had felt good, almost content, and she wondered how much of it was spending the holiday with people she loved and how much of it was because she was spending it with Killian.

 

The whole thing had almost come crashing down around them as they were leaving.  They had bundled back up in their coats and Killian was laden with foil wrapped plates filled with leftover food and the last of the gingersnaps.  Emma had stopped in the doorway to thank Mary Margaret again and she had felt Killian step up beside her, most likely to add in his own sentiments.

 

“Finally!  I thought I’d have to start walking around with it on a stick to get someone to kiss around here!” Ruby exclaimed, a slight slur to her words from the wine she’d been drinking all day.

 

“What?” Emma knew exactly what Ruby meant, she didn’t have to look up to know there was a sprig of mistletoe above her and Killian’s head.  She wasn’t about to make it easy on Ruby or let Killian know how much she wanted to keep a stupid tradition alive at that moment.

 

“I believe she’s referring to the mistletoe, love,” Killian murmured with a low voice in her ear.  She could feel his nose lightly nuzzling her temple, sending a shiver down her spine.

 

Emma slowly tilted her head up to look at the lintel where the innocent looking plant was hanging from a cheery red ribbon.  Killian’s nose had dragged delicately down her cheek until his mouth was hovering near hers, breath hot on her lips.  Her eyes had slid shut of their own volition, unable to stand looking at him in the eye at that moment. As his lips pressed gently to hers she forgot where she was, forgot that her friends were watching, and lost herself in the moment.

 

His lips were slightly chapped.  Emma didn’t know if it was from the cold air or if they were constantly in that state because of his job.  She could taste cinnamon and ginger, a heady combination that had her opening her mouth a bit more and letting a small moan slip out.  Suddenly Killian pulled away and reality slammed back into place.  The sound of Ruby wolf whistling and David grumbling filtered into her awareness and a hot blush climbed her cheeks.

 

She wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out.  She wanted to know what Killian was thinking about.  She needed to know if he had felt it too, that there was something there.  The thing that had seemingly eluded her until the moment Killian’s lips had met hers, contentment and unadulterated happiness.  Most of all she wanted to ignore everything and everyone and get back to kissing him, decency be damned.  Then she made the mistake of looking at Killian.

 

He was avoiding her gaze, instead focusing with a little too much intensity on thanking Mary Margaret and David again and repeating how nice it was to meet Ruby.  Emma felt her stomach drop to her toes.  She had misread everything, gotten her hopes up and just been let down, again.

 

She gave a semblance of a normal goodbye to everyone, if they suspected anything she figured she could blame it on being tired.  When the door closed behind them Emma dropped the smile she had plastered on and silently led the way to the car.  Killian was just as silent as he settled into his seat, staring straight out the windshield.  Emma felt like crying, wondering what the hell she’d gotten wrong and not knowing how to fix it.

 

It wasn’t until they were several blocks away from the Starbucks they had left so many hours before that Emma spoke up.

 

“Did you drive to Starbucks or do you need me to drop you off at your place?”

 

Killian looked over at her sharply.  She wasn’t sure if it was because she’d finally broken the silence or if it was because she sounded like she’d come down with a head cold in the time it had taken them to get back.

 

“Emma?”

 

“Starbucks, yes or no?” She said tiredly, ready to crawl in her bed and stay there until the new year.

 

“No, I walked there.  I’m half a block down, by the Italian restaurant with the giant flag obscuring the window.”

 

Emma nodded, not trusting her voice anymore.  She knew the place, she loved their breadsticks and the butternut squash ravioli wasn’t half bad.

 

In a few minutes they had reached their destination.  There was nowhere to park, not surprising with how late it was, so Emma pulled up to the front of the restaurant and turned on her emergency flashers.  She expected Killian to say a quick goodbye and disappear from her life for another year.  Instead he unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned towards her, his hand gently turning her chin to look at him.

 

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked quietly.

 

“Nothing.  It’s late, I’m tired, and I just want to go to sleep,” she tried to meet his eyes but couldn’t.

 

“No, there’s something else.  Did I do something, I mean, did I overstep my bounds earlier?  I never meant to make you uncomfortable in front of your friends,” she could hear the nervousness in his voice but still couldn’t bring her eyes higher than his shoulder.

 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable until you pulled away.  I know you did this as some weird kind of favor but I thought maybe we...” Emma stopped, took a breath and started again. “You know what, nevermind.  Thank you for doing this Killian, even if the guy never showed up.  I’ll see you around, I guess.”

 

The dismissal was evident, at least she thought it was, but Killian hadn’t moved.  She chanced looking at him and was shocked to see him grinning widely at her.

 

“Emma Swan, we’re going to have to work on our communication skills,” Killian’s eyes were dancing with mirth.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?” She was starting to get annoyed, especially as his grin softened and he brushed a lock of hair over her shoulder.

 

“I never told you why I bought you a hot chocolate today.  I wanted to get in your good graces so when I asked you out to dinner you’d consider saying yes.  I’ve been waiting a year for the chance to do so.  Turns out pretending to be your fake date would end with a real kiss and set the bar ridiculously high for our second date.”

 

“Second date?  I don’t remember asking,” she sounded breathless, hell she could barely catch her breath as it was.

 

“That’s because it’s my turn,” the grin disappeared and he was looking at her with a mixture of hope, trepidation, and a seriousness that made her thoughts stop in their tracks. “Will you go out with me again?”

 

Emma didn’t answer, couldn’t even if she wanted to.  He had rendered her speechless, so she gave him the best answer she could in the moment.

 

She could feel his lips tilting up into a smile under hers.  He still tasted of a faint trace of cinnamon and ginger and she chased it, leaning into him and reveling in the feel of his hand cradling the back of her head and the other dropping to her waist.  It wasn’t until a car alarm went off down the street that they broke apart, foreheads touching and breathing heavily.

 

“Is that a yes?” Killian asked cheekily.

 

“It’s not a no,” she said laughing and  pulled back reluctantly.

 

“Can I persuade you to come up for a drink?” He threw in a wink but Emma knew he was only offering a drink, nothing more.

 

“Maybe next time.  I don’t have any plans on Saturday.”

 

“Imagine that, neither do I!” He was back to grinning and Emma realized she was too.

 

“Then it’s a date.  Here.” 

 

Leaning over she popped open her glove box, barely stopping a flood of papers from dropping onto Killian’s feet.  She deftly plucked a business card out and slammed it shut, hiding the mess once again.  Grabbing a pen from her cup holder she flipped the card over and scribbled her number on the back.

 

“Now you don’t have to hope that I’ll be a creature of habit and wait a year for me to show up,” she handed him the card, letting her fingers trail over his.

 

“I’d gladly wait longer for a chance with you, Swan,” he said as he tucked the card into his pocket. “I should go before an officer decides he needs to patrol down this sleepy avenue.”

 

“That’s probably a good idea,” Emma sighed wistfully but sat back in her seat all the same, realizing she hadn’t even unbuckled her seatbelt.

 

“Until Saturday, love,” he said softly. “Merry Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Killian.”

 

The fifth year Emma learned that Killian wanted her to be his wife.  Killian learned that she wanted it too.


	2. Christmas: Killian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Day from Killian's pov

Killian wasn’t entirely sure when he had lost control of the situation.  It could have been the moment he allowed himself to be pulled along with Ruby and away from the safety net Emma would have been when confronting her friends.  Perhaps it could have been when he’d had to answer what turned out to be a non-emergency call from the rent-a-cop who was patrolling the docks for the holiday and missed the opportunity to fully explain why he had bought Emma a hot chocolate.  Then again he was pretty sure it had been the second year in a row he’d seen her at the Starbucks by his apartment, alone, on Christmas, and blushing brightly when he had winked at her.

 

The next year had had him wondering about fate, destiny, kismet and even the bloody nonsense of pathways being written in the stars while he had talked to her the whole of Christmas Day.  He had been wondering, hoping really, that she would have turned back up as she had done in the two years before and she had.  It had been like something from one of the awful holiday Hallmark romances that Jamie insisted on playing in the lobby when Emma had accidentally grabbed his drink instead of hers.  A glorified meet cute that had Jamie rhapsodizing about for weeks after Elise had told her about it.  Killian refused to be pulled into their attempts to find Emma on Instagram and Facebook on Jamie’s lunch break but couldn’t help looking over their shoulders when their squeals indicated they found her.  A private, stalker preventing account that had him smiling and scowling all at once.  He promised himself that if he ever saw her again he’d at least get her number, at most get her to agree to go out with him.

 

Killian didn’t really expect a year to go by before he’d get an even better opportunity.

 

“... from the car but I dragged Killian along with me.”

 

Ruby, a fiery lass if he’d ever met one, was grinning smugly at the faces that had turned at their arrival in the kitchen.  He had been warned by Emma that she didn’t normally bring men to parties, especially ones where all her friends were in attendance and not one of them had met the man at least once beforehand.  Her warning rang in his ears as he felt their curiosity and scrutiny wash over him.

 

The first to greet him was a petite brunette with a pixie cut and a wide, open smile, “Killian, it’s so nice to meet you.  I’m Mary Margaret and it looks like my husband disappeared for a moment but welcome anyway.”

 

Mary Margaret came around the kitchen island, which was piled high with Hors d’oeuvres, savouries and treats, and offered him her hand.  He gave into the impulse to simultaneously charm Emma’s friends and make a lasting impression by bowing over it and kissing Mary Margaret’s knuckles lightly.

 

“I’m honored you’ve invited me into your home and on such a festive occasion.  My only regret is that I brought no gift for the lovely host.”

 

Killian had the satisfaction of watching a blush rise in her cheeks.  His glee was short lived however.

 

“So you’re the poor sap Emma dragged to this,” a biting voice said off to his left.

 

Mary Margaret’s hiss of ‘Regina’ confirmed what he had suspected and provided him with exactly whom to work his charm on next.

 

“I wouldn’t say drag as much as offered a substantial reward for my compliance,” he retorted with a wink.

 

“Oh, please,” Regina huffed and rolled her eyes. “You’re charisma won’t work on me.  I’m more inclined to believe she’s actually paying you to be here than whatever it is you’re implying.”

 

“I’m afraid I’m implying a great many things but none of which are suitable for a cheery gathering such as this,” he smiled wide and was pleased to note that at least Ruby and Mary Margaret seemed to be on his side.

 

“Before Emma gets here you have to tell us how you met!” Ruby whispered conspiratorially. “All she would tell me was that you met getting coffee.”

 

Mary Margaret nodded, while Regina looked bored, and Killian figured he’d have to hew close to the truth in order to ensure that Emma would be able to stand up to cross examination once she joined them.

 

“I was the one getting coffee, Emma had ordered a hot chocolate but had neglected to pick it up when the barista called her name the first few times.  I must say those ladies at Starbucks are almost as fearsome as the good Lady Swan, I never would have guessed that a drink as sweet as hot chocolate would be her favorite.”

 

“What was she doing at a Starbucks?” Regina narrowed her eyes at him, barely sparing a glance to the man who had come up behind her.  Her husband he guessed. “She always complains about their hot chocolate.”

 

“It might not be her first option but considering that You’re Roasted was closed for the holiday I believe she had no other choice,” Killian was grateful he’d learned the answer to that.

 

“Wait, when exactly did you meet?”

 

Killian could sense that he had unknowingly stepped onto thin ice.  He tried to remember what Emma had said about why she had been at Starbucks but couldn’t for the life of him.  A volley of laughter from the group of people in the dining room served as a distraction but not enough of one.

 

“Well,” he dragged out the syllable, scratching nervously behind his ear. “I guess I would say we officially met two years ago, although I had noticed her the year before that.  Unfortunately, her discerning taste in hot chocolate prevented me from getting to know her sooner.”

 

“You know, there’s this magical thing called Facebook that might have helped with that,” Ruby quipped drawing attention away from him, long enough to collect his thoughts.

 

“I’m sure it would have if I had one.  I got rid of it after a particularly nasty break-up and haven’t regretted it since.  Well, until now.”

 

He hadn’t meant to confess the last part, especially when he hadn’t even told Emma as much.  She had been the first woman he’d had any flicker of interest in since his disaster of a relationship with Milah and he desperately didn’t want to fuck it up before it even started.

 

Mary Margaret opened her mouth to say something and Regina seemed to be itching to do so as well but he was saved by a tall blonde man pushing Emma through the doorway.  With relief he let the greetings between her and her friends wash over him, glad he was no longer alone in keeping up the farce.  He wasn’t sure how long he’d be able to keep his sanity along with it.

 

Killian was able to hold it together long enough to satisfy Mary Margaret’s need to play host and through Emma cornering him in the hallway, somehow both defending him and dismissing herself at the same time.  He wasn’t sure his reassurances held sway in her mind but he was too distracted by the buzzing in his own to check.

 

Without spending an undue amount of time in the bathroom he talked himself down, hyped himself up, and tried to regain any kind of grip on the situation he’d found himself in.  By the time he reentered the kitchen his smile was relaxed even as his heart was pounding away a mile a minute.

 

Over the course of the afternoon he was introduced to everyone there at least twice, once by Emma and then again by the effervescent host Mary Margaret.  Killian only made the effort to remember the names of the people Emma seemed to deem worthy of her time, talking to them for longer than a minute or two.  The guy he had meant to stave off hadn’t shown, all the better for him.  Killian made an extended effort to befriend David, who seemed to be an almost pseudo-sibling to Emma, along with his wife.  Despite all of it he still felt as though he was being scrutinized, watched closely for the moment where one of them would slip and it would all crash down around them.  The probing questions only solidified his suspicions

 

“How is it you keep things going in the winter?  I wouldn’t think there’d be a big demand for boating tours this time of year,” David asked grabbing a cookie from a plate piled high with them.

 

“We have a few brave souls who enjoy the sight of the city from the harbor when it’s under a blanket of snow but we mostly host various holiday parties from our docked ships.  Not quite as lucrative but has us busy enough to keep from going under during the off season.”

 

Killian randomly grabbed a cookie of his own and had it halfway to his mouth before a warm hand stopped him.

 

“No you don’t,” Emma said, plucking the cookie out of his hand and replacing it with several gingersnaps. “Ruby puts walnuts in everything she bakes and I don’t know where the nearest hospital is.  Mary Margaret’s gingersnaps are a safe bet, though.”

 

If it weren’t for the dig of her elbow in his ribs as she turned back to her conversation with Ruby Killian would have wondered if he’d tumbled into an alternate reality.  He’d never told her about his allergy, the only way she could have found out was possibly him telling one of the girls at Starbucks and at least over a year before at that.  He shoved a gingersnap into his mouth to keep it from hanging open just in time for Emma to look back at him, a light blush adorning her cheeks.  It was at that moment that he realized he might not be alone in how he felt and resolved to go through with his plan of asking her to join him on a date, a real one.

 

The rest of the afternoon bled into early evening with laughter and stories and an ache Killian hadn’t known he’d been ignoring.  The feeling of being with people, happy, content, loving people, during the holidays for no other reason than revelling in the company.  He was selfish enough to admit to himself that he craved it, wanted Emma and her friends to become his own to bask in.  When they were adorning their coats to leave he was loathe to step back into the world where he was alone and Emma was just a woman he happened to see at Starbucks once a year.

 

Opportunity presented itself when Emma had stopped in the doorway to say a final farewell to Mary Margaret.  Ruby was frantically trying to catch his attention, motioning for him to step back inside and nodding emphatically when he stopped next to Emma.

 

“Finally!  I thought I’d have to start walking around with it on a stick to get someone to kiss around here!” Ruby practically yelled, giving him a less than subtle wink and pointing above their heads.

 

Killian was unsurprised to find a sprig of mistletoe hanging mere inches above him.

 

“What?” Emma sounded confused but Killian was close enough that he had heard the hitch in her breathing.

 

“I believe she’s referring to the mistletoe, love,” Killian bent slightly to murmur in her ear.

 

Emma shivered slightly as he nudged her temple with his nose.  There was no need for him to fake the affection he felt for her.  His only regret was that they had an audience for their first kiss.

 

Slowly Emma tilted her head, most likely to look at the mistletoe above them but all she succeeded in doing was allowing Killian better access to her lips.  He had maintained contact with her, dragging his nose down her cheek until his lips were hovering above her own, warm puffs of air clouding between them.  Her eyes had slid shut slowly, almost unwillingly and he drank in the sight of her before closing the distance.

 

The instant his lips touched hers Killian knew he would never tire of kissing Emma Swan.  Her lips were soft, yet insistent, somehow still tasting of chocolate despite knowing she hadn’t had any since the drink from so many hours before.  When her mouth opened under his and her accompanying moan he almost lost his head completely and pulled back sharply instead.  Amidst Ruby’s whistling and David’s grumbling he prayed he hadn’t destroyed his chances of taking things down a more serious route, that Emma wouldn’t think he was just using her in some way.

 

He focused on thanking Mary Margaret and David, avoiding her questioning gaze, afraid that she would see down to his soul and not like what she found there.  Emma joined in the chorus of goodbyes, her voice flat and when he chanced a look the smile on her face was an uncomfortable one.  He kicked himself for causing her pain and followed her silently as she led the way to her car.

 

Silence followed them all the way back to Boston.  Killian started and stopped a hundred different conversations in his mind but none of them had seemed perfect enough to start.  Emma was the one to speak first.

 

“Did you drive to Starbucks or do you need me to drop you off at your place?”

 

She sounded as though she had been crying, causing Killian’s eyes to snap over to her face, but there was no trace of a single tear.

 

“Emma?” He asked hesitantly

 

“Starbucks, yes or no?” She sounded tired, done with him.

 

“No, I walked there.  I’m half a block down, by the Italian restaurant with the giant flag obscuring the window,” Killian said, wondering if he should have given her more specific directions.

 

Emma nodded and continued to drive without hesitation, she obviously knew where she was going.  It wasn’t long before she pulled to a stop in front of the restaurant.  She seemed to steel herself as though she was waiting for some emotional blow.  He unbuckled his seatbelt and with a gentle grip on her chin, turned her head to look at him.

 

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked quietly.

 

“Nothing.  It’s late, I’m tired, and I just want to go to sleep,” Emma was avoiding his gaze.

 

“No, there’s something else.  Did I do something, I mean, did I overstep my bounds earlier?  I never meant to make you uncomfortable in front of your friends,” he implored, wanting her to understand.

 

“I wasn’t uncomfortable until you pulled away.  I know you did this as some weird kind of favor but I thought maybe we...” Emma paused, breathed deep and started again. “You know what, nevermind.  Thank you for doing this Killian, even if the guy never showed up.  I’ll see you around, I guess.”

 

It was easy to hear that she was trying to give him an easy out, to dismiss everything between them as a kind of business transaction.  It was also painfully apparent that she had been harboring the same hopes he had.  A grin broke out and he was helpless to hide it when she finally looked up at him.

 

“Emma Swan, we’re going to have to work on our communication skills,” he said, practically laughing in relief.

 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

 

Emma’s green eyes flared in irritation as he felt his grin relax into something close to adoration.  With a gentle touch he pushed a lock of her hair over her shoulder.

 

“I never told you why I bought you a hot chocolate today.  I wanted to get in your good graces so when I asked you out to dinner you’d consider saying yes.  I’ve been waiting a year for the chance to do so.  Turns out pretending to be your fake date would end with a real kiss and set the bar ridiculously high for our second date.”

 

“Second date?  I don’t remember asking,” Emma said breathlessly.

 

“That’s because it’s my turn,” Killian let the grin slide off his face.  He let his nervousness and hopes shine through instead, showing her that he meant what he was about to say. “Will you go out with me again?”

 

Emma didn’t answer, not with words.  She stared up at him with wide eyes and the corners of her mouth tilting up into a smile.  He didn’t even have a chance to smile back when she leaned into him, eyes sliding shut.

 

His smile came as she gently pressed her lips to his.  She leaned further into him and he readily opened up for her, his hands finding their way to the back of her head and down to her waist, drawing her ever closer.  Killian was quickly losing control, happily spiralling into the feel of her hands and lips on him.  His only saving grace came when a car alarm started blaring away down the street, forcing them to break apart with heavy breaths.

 

“Is that a yes?” Killian asked as soon as he could form a coherent sentence.

 

“It’s not a no,” Emma said with a laugh, pulling back reluctantly.

 

“Can I persuade you to come up for a drink?” He winked but knew she would understand he only meant the drink, not wanting the evening to end.

 

“Maybe next time.  I don’t have any plans on Saturday,” Emma said coyly.

 

“Imagine that, neither do I!” Killian grinned, too happy to play it cool.

 

“Then it’s a date,” she answered with a grin of her own. “Here.” 

 

Emma popped open her glove box, it was so stuffed full of papers that they nearly ended up on his feet.  With quick fingers she pulled out a business card from the mess and shut it, hiding the mess away once more.  A pen plucked from her cup holder scratched out a number on the back of the card.

 

“Now you don’t have to hope that I’ll be a creature of habit and wait a year for me to show up,” she handed him the card, letting her fingers trail over his.

 

“I’d gladly wait longer for a chance with you, Swan,” he said as he tucked the card into his pocket, wanting to immediately enter it into his phone and then brand the number into his skin so he’d never lose it. “I should go before an officer decides he needs to patrol down this sleepy avenue.”

 

“That’s probably a good idea,” Emma sighed sitting back in her seat.

 

“Until Saturday, love,” he promised. “Merry Christmas.”

 

“Merry Christmas, Killian.”

 

He waited ten minutes before texting her.  She waited two more before calling back.


	3. Valentine's Day

Killian should have known, it wasn’t that hard to figure out once he paid attention to the signs.  There had been so many signs.  The fact that he was faced with an irate Jamie was a pretty big indication of how clueless he truly had been.

 

“I don’t understand how unbelievably stupid you are at this moment!” Jamie growled at him.

 

“Who’s stupid and why is it unbelievable?”

 

Jamie and Killian both turned to the door of his office to see Elise poking her head in.  Even if the brunette wasn’t dressed in the all black outfit required by Starbucks the smell of coffee beans that wafted in the air and the drink holder in her hand would have been indication enough that she had just gotten off.  Killian groaned internally.  He was all but certain that he was in for a lecture of such magnitude that the Americano Elise had brought him wouldn’t go halfway towards making him feel better.

 

“This asshole-”

 

“Hey! You’re still my employee, I can fire you.”

 

“Please,” Jamie rolled her eyes. “I’m about to save your sorry ass, even though I shouldn’t and should just let Emma drown you in the harbor.”

 

“Who are you and what have you done with my girlfriend?” Elise asked with an arched brow darting an amused glance at Killian.

 

“When you hear what this idiot’s done you’ll want to drown him too,” Jamie said with a hint of scorn.

 

“Watch it Jamie, you’re starting to push it too far,” Killian warned.

 

Jamie blushed and mumbled an apology, nervously smoothing down the light brown wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail.  Killian wasn’t actually mad at her, he was upset with himself because he was starting to realize exactly how close he’d come to making a major mistake.

 

“Look, I didn’t mean to get, well, mean but Killian come on, we’ve been booking tours and parties since the beginning of January,” Jamie said exasperatedly and turned to address Elise who was still standing cautiously in the doorway. “My usually wonderful and observant boss has made absolutely no plans for Valentine’s Day with his new girlfriend that he’d been obsessing over for years.”

 

“Oh, no!” Elise moaned as she entered the office and dropped into the chair next to Jamie, giving both of them a horrified look. “You are an idiot.”

 

“Thanks,” he grumbled, stopping himself from pouting.

 

“You do know that Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, right?” Elise asked in an almost horrified voice. “I had to listen to Amber go on and on about how John has the ‘ _ most _ romantic evening planned’ and when that topic was worn out she started asking about what flowers I was getting Jamie and what I had planned and do you know that oysters are considered an aphrodisiac?”

 

Elise fluttered her lashes and brought her clasped hands under her chin.  Killian and Jamie laughed, easing some of the hostility in the room.  He grabbed the cup he knew to be his and sat back to be scolded more and then hopefully get some advice on how to save himself.

 

“Good to know that John has a firm grasp on the holiday.  What, pray tell, do you two have planned for tomorrow?” Killian asked, out of curiosity and as an avoidance tactic.

 

“None of your business-”

 

“We’re seeing Some Like it Hot at-”

 

Jamie and Elise had answered at the same time.  Killian tried to stifle a laugh as Jamie glared at Elise but failed.  As a result he ended up receiving the look himself.

 

“All you need to know is we’ve had plans for weeks.  Weeks, Killian!” Jamie said, nearly shouting.

 

“I think the real question is: why didn’t you make any plans at all?  You went all out for your first date with Emma and that was some random Saturday.  I thought you’d be over the moon at the opportunity to be romantic with millions of other heart-eyed fools, myself included,” Elise said with a smile.

 

Killian realized that he might have someone in his corner after all.  At least, he hoped he did.

 

“I was going to.  Nothing too over the top, but I was going to take her to a nice restaurant, maybe buy her some flowers or hell even go to the movies and pay a ridiculous amount for popcorn and a soda.  I asked Emma about it and she told me that she wasn’t expecting me to do anything.  She said the same thing the few other times I asked so I finally dropped it.  I assumed she wanted nothing to do with any of it.”

 

It had been almost two months since he had started dating Emma.  He wasn’t one for superstition but he didn’t want to let on how happy he was, for fear of it slipping through his fingers.  Which was why he hadn’t really pressed Emma about doing something for Valentine’s Day.  Over the weeks that he’d known her he’d learned quite a lot about her: how she worked through a case until exhaustion forced her to sleep, how she called David and Mary Margaret family without realizing it, how she looked curled up in his bed with the early morning light softening her features.  For all that he was still nearly clueless about why she had no real family to speak of, or what had happened that made her wary of his affections and sometimes caused her to push him away, as though testing his decision to be with her.  It was a maddening torture that had the sweetest reward, her trust.  He had resolved early on to never lose it.

 

“Oh, you poor, sad, little man,” Elise grimaced. “You know she was bluffing right?”

 

“What?” Killian hoped she was wrong.

 

“Did she ever say the words ‘I don’t want you to do anything for Valentine’s Day’?” Jamie supplied.

 

“No,” Killian thought back over the conversations he’d had with Emma about it. “Just that she didn’t expect anything.”

 

“Exactly,” Elise said triumphantly.

 

“Exactly, what?” Killian was starting to become confused.

 

“Ugh, boys.  Remind me to stick to girls forever,” Jamie whined, dropping her head onto Elise’s shoulder.

 

“I plan to but first we need to help this idiot out,” Elise said, fixing Killian with a shrewd look.

 

“Not you too,” Killian groaned.

 

He wished it wasn’t the lunch hour where the phones went straight to their messaging system and the sign on the door was flipped to read ‘closed’.  To think he had been contemplating surprising Emma by taking her out but opted to work through lunch instead.  All because he wanted to get off an hour early and make an evening of it.

 

“Yes, me too,” Elise said with a grin. “I’ll be nicer than her though.  She’s obviously just cranky because she needs to eat.  It’s like those Snickers commercials.”

 

“Hey!” Jamie said indignantly as she sat up.

 

“There’s a salad on your desk.  Grab the Ipad too,” Elise instructed.  She waited until Jamie was out of the room and then looked at Killian carefully. “Look, I don’t know much about Emma other than what Jamie has told me and from what I’ve seen the few times she’s come to the store with you.  You’re adorable when you’re trying to keep your heart eyes under control by the way.”

 

Killian rolled his eyes but stayed silent.  There was a revelation on the way, he could feel it.

 

“You met Emma at the store on Christmas right?” Elise asked.

 

He knew that she knew the answer, but humored her anyway, “Yes, it’s quite the hot spot when it comes to having nowhere else to go on holidays that practically shut down the city.”

 

“Not to step on any toes or anything but could the reason she was always at Starbucks on Christmas also be the reason why she’s not pushing for anything special to happen tomorrow?” Elise asked delicately.

 

Killian opened his mouth to shoot off a resounding no but stopped himself.  He barely noticed when Jamie came back into the room as he mulled over Elise’s question.

 

He was quite aware that Emma had no family.  She had told him she was an orphan when he had asked about her parents on their first real date.  There had been no expansion on the subject, Emma hadn’t wanted to ruin the date and Killian was unwilling to scare her away by digging too deep.  It hadn’t come back up but sometimes Killian caught her watching him closely, words seemingly on the tip of her tongue but she would swallow them down and smile instead.

 

The topic of their past relationships had been a bit more tentative conversation.  Without asking Killian knew that someone had broken Emma’s heart almost irrevocably.  He hated whomever it was with such blind ferocity that he hoped to never meet them.  Emma knew about Milah but only her name and that things had ended the very opposite of amicably.  Neither of them had delved any deeper than the surface.

 

“Perhaps,” Killian finally said, addressing Elise’s question. “How is it you figured it out and I was unaware?”

 

“You’re still in the honeymoon stage,” Jamie said around a mouthful of lettuce, waving her fork in the air. “You don’t want to rock the boat and possibly ruin this happy little thing you’ve got going.”

 

“What she said,” Elise agreed with a nod. “We went months before we even addressed why I hadn’t met any of her friends.  I didn’t want to force her to do anything she didn’t want to but I was starting to think she was ashamed of me.”

 

“And I hadn’t come out to anyone.  Elise is my first relationship, ever, and I didn’t want us to implode because the people in my life wouldn’t be able to accept who I am.  Turns out we almost broke up because of it, biggest fight we’ve ever had” Jamie sighed a little sadly.  Elise grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Of course I was worrying about nothing and the only thing my friends were surprised about was that Elise didn’t get a discount on anything she wanted.”

 

“So, can you see why Emma’s not making a big deal about Valentine’s Day?” Elise asked.

 

“Yeah, I believe I can,” Killian said quietly.

 

Emma hadn’t wanted to make any plans for Valentine’s Day using the same logic for why he hadn’t gone and made them anyway.  They both didn’t want to set themselves up for disappointment, in each other and in themselves.

 

“What am I going to do?” He asked shrilly, eyes darting between the two women casually sharing a salad watching as he started to panic. “Every single worthy restaurant has probably been booked solid for months,  there’s probably not a single rose left in the country, let alone in Boston, bloody hell I don’t even have a card!”

 

“First things first: Is Emma free tomorrow night?” Jamie calmly asked, wiping her hands on a napkin and pulling the Ipad towards her.

 

“Yeah, she mentioned starting a new case and using the time to do some research at home.  Which is why we were meeting up tonight so I wouldn’t be interrupting her tomorrow,” Killian wondered if Emma had been hoping he would have taken her out despite her protests that she had to work.  The flat glares from Elise and Jamie confirmed it. “That was a hint I missed, wasn’t it?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” Elise laughed. “You’re so lucky Jamie is nosey and apparently more invested in your relationship than you are.”

 

“Only because I get better raises when he’s happy,” Jamie murmured still tapping away on the Ipad.

 

“If you help me pull this off I’ll make sure next time we host one of those fundraisers with all those celebrities you’ll be on the guest list as well,” Killian promised.

 

“I’ll hold you to it,” Jamie said with a grin.  A few taps later she looked up at him with a smile. “Alright everything's taken care of.  All you need to do is go to a store and get a card with all the other dummies that waited until the last minute, take Emma out tonight as planned but don’t mention anything about tomorrow since she’s probably already resigned herself to spending it alone-”

 

“I wasn’t planning on ignoring her completely!”

 

“Doesn’t mean she knows that.  Now would you rather use Marge or Martha?”

 

Killian was ridiculously nervous and he knew Emma was well aware of it.  She had been suspicious almost from the moment she had opened her door and seen him standing there.  He had followed Jamie’s instructions and brought nothing to Emma’s apartment, wearing an almost too casual outfit of jeans, trainers, a well worn t-shirt and his leather jacket over it.  It hadn’t been hard to convince her to put on shoes of her own and join him, the calculating look hadn’t left her eyes no matter how much he tried to distract her.

 

“Why are we at the docks, Killian?” Emma asked warily.

 

“I, erm, need to pick up something from my office.  Come with?” He was failing miserably at being casual and he was immensely relieved that Jamie and Elise weren’t there to see him.

 

“Killian, I know what you’re up to.  Cut the crap and just take me to whatever you’ve got planned,” Emma chided but gently, an amused glint in her eyes.

 

“As you wish, love,” Killian sighed, relieved to drop the secrecy act.

 

With an offer of his arm, that she accepted, he led the way past the building that held his office and towards the docks.  Killian wasn’t sure what to expect.  Jamie had only asked him a few questions, whether or not Emma was allergic to anything and if she was violently opposed to any color.  He had answered negatively on both accounts and then had been exiled to his office.  When he had left earlier that day Jamie had told him to be at the docks by eight and that dinner would be provided.

 

“I told you that you didn’t need to do anything,” Emma’s voice broke through his thoughts.

 

“Would you believe me if I said I had very little to do with this?” Killian asked, hoping that she wasn’t angry with him.  He didn’t exactly have a plan to salvage the night.

 

“Maybe,” she hummed, leaning into him. “The fact that Jamie texted me earlier today to tell me that when you showed up I had no choice but to go with you.  She didn’t say anything else but I have a feeling she’ll be dropping by my apartment to make sure I’m not there.”

 

Killian laughed.  If there was one thing that he was surprised by it was the friendship that had blossomed between Emma and Jamie.  He had thought Elise would have been the one to bond with Emma, mostly because he’d seen already seen them interact at Starbucks and they had seemed to get along.  Then one day Emma had stopped by his office for some reason or another and Jamie had ended up talking to her for an hour before Killian even knew Emma was there.  Where Emma was reluctant to open up and guarded Jamie was exuberant and affectionate.  It was hard to resist Jamie when she decided she wanted to be friends.

 

“I believe she will.  The theater that her and Elise are going to is near your apartment and it won’t be hard for Jamie to convince Elise to stop by.  Especially if it gives them the chance to meddle in our lives some more.”

 

“They’re not that bad, those Bruins tickets were amazing,” Emma said with a grin.

 

“The seats were excellent but I think I would have enjoyed the experience more if you had actually been talking to me at the time,” Killian scowled at the memory.

 

“I still think they paid off the camera guy to get us on the kiss cam,” Emma mused, squeezing his arm. “I’m glad they did though.”

 

“Me too, love.”

 

Killian stopped walking and pulled Emma in front of him.  He caught a quick glimpse of her surprised smile before ducking down to kiss her quickly.  Her lips softened under his but he could still feel them twitch in amusement.

 

“Are you trying to distract me, Mr. Jones?” Emma asked pointedly as she pulled away, her eyebrows quirked accusingly.

 

“Perhaps,” he dropped his forehead to hers. “I know you didn’t want me to do anything for Valentine’s Day and I was ready to comply with your wishes.  If you’re unhappy we can turn around and I’ll take you back home, no questions, no hurt feelings.”

 

“Really?” Emma was looking up at him quizzically. “You’d do that?”

 

“If you were truly uncomfortable, then yes.  I don’t ever want to put undue pressure on you.”

 

She blinked up at him, seemingly unable to come up with a response.  Killian was ready to turn back to the car when she rose up on her toes and pressed a light kiss to his lips.

 

“Let’s go see what Jalise has wrought,” Emma murmured, her warm breath mingling with his.

 

“Jalise?”

 

“Jamie decided that Jalise was their couple name.  Elise wasn’t exactly thrilled,” Emma said laughing as she looped her arm through his again and pulled him further down the dock with her.

 

“And what shall ours be, love?  Kilma? Emmian? I veto both of those by the way,” Killian said succinctly, lips twitching as Emma laughed in amusement.

 

“Me too.  How about…”

 

Her words trailed off as they approached the only ship that was lit up in the dark night.  Most of the yachts and boats that his company used were booked for various private and public parties to celebrate the occasion, Valentine’s Day was a surprisingly big day for them.  The only two that hadn’t been booked were the luxury yacht that was dry docked for maintenance and the  _ Lady Washington _ , a historical replica of an eighteenth century merchant sloop that was using the company’s dock while anchored in Boston Harbor.  It was the sight of the 27 meter rigging illuminated against the night sky that had seemingly rendered Emma speechless.

 

“Come along, Swan, she’s more than just a set piece,” Killian said gently as he tugged her towards the gangplank.

 

“How?  Killian, are you some kind of pirate and this is how you decided to break the news?” Emma asked still staring up in awe at the masts high above her head.

 

“Aye, matey, and if you don’t watch yer mouth I’ll be forcin’ ya to walk the plank,” Killian growled with one eye closed and the index finger of his left hand curled into a hook.

 

“Pfft, I take it back.  You’re too ridiculous to be a pirate, did they have jesters on pirate ships?  If not I think you should be the pioneer of that career choice,” she teased as they stepped on deck.

 

Killian wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t what he saw before him.  There was nothing, at least nothing out of the ordinary.  The deck wasn’t covered in rose petals, there were no strings of lights wrapped around the wooden rails or strung between the masts, there was no bottle of champagne chilling or quiet music drifting from some unseen source towards them.  It was as if the crew had just decided to install giant floodlights on board and then disappeared into the night.

 

“Are we going to stand out here freezing all night or can we follow that not so subtle pink arrow?”

 

He looked at where she was pointing and was surprised to see that indeed there was a large pink arrow taped to the door leading into the bowels of the ship.  Pulling his arm from hers he dipped forward in a bow and gestured for her to walk ahead of him.  Emma rolled her eyes but held her head up high, as though a crown had suddenly been set there, and disappeared through the doorway.

 

Laughing, Killian followed her into the depths of the ship.  There wasn’t much light as they walked through the cramped quarters aside from a single doorway spilling light out into the passageway.  Even without more of the pink arrows leading the way it was easy to discern where they needed to go.

 

Emma disappeared through the door and Killian picked up his pace but stopped short when the room came into view.  He didn’t know what the hell he’d done to deserve Jamie as an employee but he was going to give that woman a raise as soon as possible.

 

The captain’s quarters looked almost exactly like it did any other day: nautical odds and ends lining the walls, books in place in the built in bookshelves, the small bunk made up to meticulous standards.  Just as the deck above gave no indication that a romantic evening was about to transpire the room itself was nearly as unadorned.

 

“Killian?  What’s wrong?” Emma’s concerned voice broke through Killian’s stunned haze.

 

“Nothing, love, just caught by surprise I suppose,” he shook his head and stepped fully into the room.

 

Killian was more than surprised he was deeply touched at the effort Jamie had put into making sure he didn’t screw up with Emma.  The table, a plain sturdy thing, was covered with a butter yellow tablecloth and although it was set with all the trappings of a romantic dinner the bag of takeout from the diner he and Emma frequented indicated a simpler meal.

 

He had thought about doing exactly what he saw before him before he scrapped everything when he believed Emma wanted to skip Valentine’s Day.  Killian blinked rapidly as he noticed that Jamie had somehow known to set a small bunch of buttercups on the plate Emma would use.  Glancing at his own plate he saw there was an envelope waiting for him.  Walking to it as if he was in a dream he pulled out the letter, barely aware of Emma cautiously following him.

 

_ You’re so lucky that you’re hopeless with technology and saved your random plans in the shared documents instead of writing them down by hand like you normally do.  You also owe me for the takeout, I left the bill on the bag. _

 

_ Have fun tonight, _

 

_ Jamie _

 

_ p.s. Elise helped too and she’s mad I didn’t mention it. _

 

“So, I guess you did have a little bit to do with this,” Emma murmured into his ear, resting her chin on his shoulder as she read the note in his hand.

 

“It would appear so,” Killian tilted his head to look at her. “Shall we see if they got our orders right?”

 

“As long as there are onion rings I’ll be a happy girl.”

 

There were onion rings, much to Emma’s delight and Killian’s relief.  The whole order was one that they had shared many times, making him wonder idly if the next time they went to the diner and asked for the usual he’d get exactly what he wanted.  They sat down and started eating, a quiet settling over them that bordered on awkward.

 

“Ugh, I can’t take it anymore.  Spill it, Killian, whatever it is that’s bothering you, just tell me,” Emma said exasperated.

 

Killian looked over at her guiltily.  He had been thinking about what Jamie and Elise had said about not wanting to upset the happy bubble he had found himself in with Emma.  It was poor timing but he didn’t think it was fair to Emma or to their relationship that he remain quiet.

 

“Do you not see a future with me, love?” Killian asked bringing his eyes up to hers, knowing the vulnerability she would find there.

 

“What?  Killian what are you talking about?” Emma’s eyes shifted off to the side, blinking rapidly.

 

“We’ve been dating for two months and yet I’ve not met with your friends other than Christmas and that Superbowl party.  The one that Ruby invited me to, not you.  You won’t let me make plans for anything further than a week out and half of those involve us holing up in one of our apartments for a weekend, not that I’m complaining,” he gave her a wink but it was a halfhearted thing. “I thought that with Valentine’s Day approaching you’d be more receptive to something more.  Is it me?  Have I done something wrong?”

 

“No, Killian, no,” Emma pleaded, taking his hand in hers but her eyes still avoiding his.

 

“Being with you has made me happier than I can say but there are times where I feel that I don’t know you and I want to.  God, Emma, I want to know everything about you and I know things in your past have hurt you but you have to trust that I won’t become one of them.”

 

“You can’t promise that,” Emma whispered, gripping his hand tightly.

 

“I can promise to try.  But you have to let me do that, love,” Killian squeezed her hand gently. “Let me try.”

 

“I’ve been abandoned by everyone.  Everyone, Killian!” Emma’s eyes snapped up to his, wide and full of pain. “My real parents, too many foster parents that I lost count, Neal, and you are the first good thing to happen to me in a long time.  I can’t lose you too.”

 

“You won’t.”

 

“Stop saying that, you can’t go making promises like that when someday you might get tired of me or get hit by a bus or get sick and leave me broken.  I can’t break anymore because I’ll shatter,” Emma’s voice dropped off but she kept her gaze on him, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

 

“Swan, I can’t guarantee that there will never be an accident or illness but I can damn well promise that I’ll never tire of you.  Get a tad angry or frustrated at times but I’ll never stop wanting to be with you,” Killian took in a shuddering breath. “I’m in this for the long haul, love.”

 

He didn’t wait for her answer, whether it was to be a rebuttal or an acceptance he didn’t want to know.  Instead he tugged her forward, meeting her halfway, his lips crashing into hers in a desperate kiss.  She seemed to be as desperate as him, her fingers gripping his hair, dragging him closer.  With reluctance he broke away, breathing heavily but kept his forehead gently resting against hers.

 

“Not quite the romantic Valentine’s Day I had planned, love,” Killian’s eyes were closed but he felt her huff of laughter on his lips.

 

“No, but when have we ever celebrated something traditionally anyways?” Emma pulled back and when Killian opened his eyes he was relieved to see her giving him a soft smile. “This is the best Valentine’s I’ve ever had if I’m being honest.”

 

“Truly, Swan?  You’re taking the piss aren’t you?” He sat back but dropped his hand to her knee, loathe to lose contact.

 

“Nope.  The one time I was with someone for Valentine’s we were sleeping in my car and stealing food to survive.  He did manage to swipe a Hershey’s bar for us to split but that was as big a deal we made about it.  This is a definite improvement,” her voice wavered a bit as her smile slipped. “I’m sorry that I made you feel like I didn’t want more with you.  It scares me, how much more I want because I want it all.”

 

“And I want to give it to you, if you’ll let me,” Killian said earnestly, squeezing her knee.

 

“Yeah, I think I’m okay with that,” Emma said quietly. “Um, Mary Margaret’s been bugging me about bringing you to dinner sometime.  Are you free next Thursday?”

 

Killian grinned widely and leaned into her, “Be sure to remind her not to use any walnuts in her baking and I’ll be there.”

 

“She’s well aware.  You didn’t honestly think I’ve been baking all those cookies at my apartment did you?  Mary Margaret has been sending them back with me as a way to guilt me into finally bringing you back to their house.”

 

“Remind me to compliment her on her prodigious skill and that I wouldn’t be averse to being sent home with a plate of cookies all my own,” he paused, watching Emma carefully but she showed no sign of wanting to close herself off from him. “I have something for you, love.”

 

“Really!?”  Emma was watching him warily, as though he would pull a live rabbit out of his pocket.

 

“Calm down, Swan, it’s just a card.”

 

He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a white envelope.  It had been madness at the store when he had gone to find a suitable card the night before.  There had been a depressing number of harried looking men shuffling in front of the display of Valentine’s cards.  By the time Killian worked his way to the front he was already frustrated and it wasn’t long before he was cursing under his breath as each card he picked up seemed insufficient for what he wanted to convey.

 

Finally he had extricated himself from the pack empty handed and started walking through the rest of the card aisles hoping to find anything that would do.  He had found what he was looking for accidentally.  The card was tucked haphazardly in the birthday card section, the eggshell white cardstock catching his eye amidst the muted pastels.  He had plucked it out deftly and grinned as he left the rest of the poor lazy sods behind.

 

Killian handed Emma the card with only a small shake visible in his fingers, a larger one in hers.  He watched her face as she opened the envelope and pulled out the card.  Her small, heartfelt smile as she saw the image on the front made his heart start beating faster in his chest.  She looked up at him with glee in her eyes and then dropped them back to the card as she opened it.

 

He was only afforded a quick glimpse of the simple sketch of a coffee cup before he focused his attention on Emma as she read the words he had written inside.  The card had been blank when he purchased it but he had filled it with his own looping script almost to the point of needing to use the back as well.  Much of what he had written he had already revealed to her and he watched as she relived his revelations.  It was when he knew she was reaching the end of his missive that he paid close attention.  Killian had been silently repeating what he had written like a mantra almost the entire night.

 

_ We may have truly known each other for only a few months but I could live for three hundred years and never know a truth more certain than this: you, Emma Swan, are my happy ending. _

 

Only his signature followed, he had been hesitant to put down anything that was stronger or life changing when she was still so closed off from him.  As he watched her eyes widen and an elated, all encompassing smile bloom he knew.  He loved her and he’d be damned if he didn’t spend the rest of his days proving it to her.  When she practically leapt into his arms to pepper kisses across his jaw and lips he had an inkling that she might feel the same.


	4. Easter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some heavy discussions about religion in this chapter. Just warning y'all.

Emma sighed in relief as she let her duffel bag fall to the floor and kicked the door shut behind her.  She was finally home after three weeks of chasing her latest paycheck across the Eastern seaboard.  Despite how exhausted she was she felt a pang of disappointment as she dragged her feet towards her empty bedroom.

 

Killian had told her that she could have gone straight to his apartment when she got back or he would have waited at hers.  She had protested, gently at first and then more insistently, saying that she would get back too late to do more than collapse in her bed and she didn’t want to disturb his sleep.  At nearly three in the morning she was right on the first count but as she shuffled through her lonely apartment she realized that coming back to the sight of him in her bed would have been more preferable than the cold crumpled sheets that greeted her.

 

It was the first time they had gone more than a few days without seeing each other since they had started dating.  They had texted back and forth, interspersed with phone calls and Skype dates but Emma had been caught by surprise at how much she missed him.  It had been a long time since she had been in a serious relationship and she had forgotten all the small heartaches that went with it.

 

She’d had a small moment of panic when she realized how deeply she felt for Killian.  As much as she tried to keep a happy facade when talking to him he had somehow known or at least inferred that something was wrong.  Before she could truly start to second guess the whole thing he had shown up at the shitty hotel she was staying at.  She had been in Staten Island and it was her second weekend away from home.  He had only stayed that night and part of the morning, having to get back to work the next day, but it had been enough to set her to rights.

 

Smiling at the memory Emma donned her pajamas and crawled into her bed.  She barely remembered to text Killian that she had made it home before succumbing to the weariness that pulled at her bones.

 

The next morning dawned clear and bright, or at least Emma assumed it did.  She had burrowed under her comforter at the first hint of light filtering through her blinds and slept until noon.  When she had finally emerged from her cocoon of blankets, bleary eyed and only slightly disoriented, she had been greeted by three texts from Killian.  The first was welcoming her home and wishing her goodnight sent only minutes after her late night text, the second was from the ungodly hour of eight a.m. wishing her a good morning, and the third was time stamped only twenty minutes before inviting her to join him at his office for lunch.

 

Grinning widely she text him back, wishing she could call him and hear his voice but he had a meeting, another reason why she’d insisted he get as much sleep as he could.  Feeling much more awake she got ready for her day.  She wondered idly if she should pack an overnight bag but decided against it.  Not only did she not know what Killian had scheduled for the rest of the day but it wouldn’t be hard to convince him to stay at her apartment.  She’d missed him but she’d missed her bed almost as much and besides she was the one who had the HBO Go account.

 

Forty minutes later Emma was parking at the docks and trying to balance a drink carrier and a large bag of food from Granny’s, the diner they ate at almost once a week.  A volley of barking and the sound of pounding feet were her only warning to brace herself.  She barely set the items in her hand on the hood of her car before a hundred pounds of excited black fur barreled into her, pinning her against the door of the Bug.  Laughing she tried to push Roger off of her but only succeeded in exciting the Newfoundland more.

 

“I swear to God she heard your car three blocks away,” Jamie huffed as she neared the car and bent over, inhaling dramatically. “It’s like trying to keep a tornado on a leash made of string.  How was your trip?”

 

“It was okay, I guess,” Emma said with a shrug, finally getting Roger back on all four paws through sheer force. “I slept in crappy motels or my car, which now has a few hundred more miles on it, I almost lost the guy twice, and I haven’t seen my boyfriend in a week.”

 

“Yeah, but now you’ll have amazing reunion sex that will make him so happy he’ll be more willing to hire people for the summer,” Jamie smirked.

 

“It’s only March!” Emma exclaimed bewildered, ignoring Jamie’s not so subtle winking.  Roger started getting excited again at her outburst and Emma quickly placed her hands on her head to keep her from jumping up and pinning her down. “No, Roger, sit.  Why are you guys hiring now?  I said sit, you big lump.  Killian didn’t mention anything.”

 

“We always hire the summer help in the early spring.  It takes so long for Killian to pick the right people that by the time we finally do it’s late April and there’s the perfect amount of time to train them before the tourist season starts,” Jamie rolled her eyes and then stepped forward to look at what Emma had brought. “Granny’s, of course.  I swear you guys should just invest in the place… you need to get rid of those!”

 

Before Emma had a chance to react or even ask what she was talking about Jamie snatched the drink carrier and stalked over to the trash can.  Emma watched in horror as Jamie dumped the whole thing in, not even pausing to consider the heinous act she’d just committed.

 

“What the hell, Jamie?!” Emma didn’t know if she was more shocked or livid. “I only got one sip of that and  I’ve been craving a hot chocolate from You’re Roasted for weeks!”

 

“That was a hot chocolate?” Jamie looked guiltily into the trashcan. “I’ll go get you a new one right now!”

 

“I wouldn’t need a new one if you hadn’t gone insane!  Seriously, what the hell?” Emma threw up her hands in exasperation but immediately dropped them to keep Roger at bay.

 

“It’s Lent,” Jamie said so matter of factly that Emma wondered if she was the one who had lost her mind.

 

“What?  No I bought those, who the hell would lend someone coffee?” Her confusion was growing by the minute.

 

“Pfft, no.  It’s Lent!” Jamie said again as if repeating it would clarify everything.  She looked amused and then confused, “You don’t know what Lent is?”

 

“Should I?”

 

“You live in a city where, like, half the population is Catholic and you have no idea what Lent is?  Do you live under a rock?  Does Killian have a bed that’s comfier than packed dirt and that’s why you’re always over there?” Jamie was grinning widely but it was doing nothing to loosen the knot that was starting to form in Emma’s stomach.

 

“I’m not big on religion,” she said flatly, digging her fingers into Roger’s fur to steady her.

 

Religion had filtered in and out of her life through her foster years.  It would have been impossible to avoid it, especially when there were families that felt it was their Christian duty to help those less fortunate than themselves.  She hadn’t minded, sometimes it was nice to be placed in those homes but then sometimes it wasn’t.  It took only one bible thumping religious fanatic to turn her off the whole thing completely.

 

“Oh, neither am I,” Jamie reassured her. “But Killian is.  I’m not going to bore you with the details and I’m sure you want to see your man but you should know this: no caffeine and no alcohol around him until Easter.  He won’t tell you to go away if you show up with it for yourself but you’ll have to deal with his angry stares and muttering until you do.”

 

“Easter?  That’s weeks away!  Right?  Please tell me that’s not right,” Emma groaned.  She never paid attention to when holidays were if they didn’t have a set date like Halloween or Christmas, “So, you’re telling me that because my boyfriend has gone cold turkey on probably the only two things that make me tolerable at certain hours I have to suffer as well?”

 

“Welcome to my life.  Elise actually marks when Lent starts every year so she can set the coffee timer an hour earlier.  It’s like Daylight Savings but way more annoying and, in my opinion, kinda pointless,” Jamie rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Look, I’ve kept you out here long enough.  Killian is probably getting ready to send out a search party for you and then one for Roger.  I’ll go and replace your hot chocolate, you go and reunite with my boss because I definitely don’t want to see any PDA when I get back.”

 

“Says the woman who paid off the kiss cam operator.  Three times,” Emma said with an eye roll of her own.  She bent down to pick up Roger’s leash, “I don’t believe for a second that someone owes you that many favors.”

 

“Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies,” Jamie sing-songed as she walked to her car. “Killian’s meeting should be over by now and his schedule is clear the rest of the day.  If you’re not in the office when I get back I’ll take that as the thank you you’ll refuse to say to my face.”

 

Emma laughed as Jamie got in her car and drove away.  She picked up the bag of food and with a light tug on Roger’s leash led the way to Killian’s building.  Her phone had begun steadily buzzing in her pocket but with her hands full she figured answering him in person would be preferable.

 

“Swan!” Killian’s voice was muffled but distinct through the glass door leading into his building.

 

The bells on the door chimed melodiously as he swung it open and pulled her into his arms.  She was smiling too widely at first for him to kiss her properly and Roger was bumping against them too forcefully for her to keep her balance.  They both huffed out a laugh, foreheads leaning against each other, and Emma had just enough time to realize how much she missed him before Killian closed the small distance between them again to capture her lips with his.

 

“Missed me?” Emma breathed out when they finally broke apart.

 

“Like you wouldn’t believe, love,” Killian responded, cheeks flushed and a teasing glint in his eyes. “It’s not everyday a beautiful lass gets dragged down here in the middle of the day.  Roger, I’ve missed you so.”

 

Emma laughed in spite of herself as Killian knelt down to bury his hands and face in Roger’s fur.

 

“I see how it is, I’m gone for a few weeks and I’ve been replaced by a dark haired vixen,” Emma shouldered her way into the building heading straight for Killian’s office.

 

“Alas, you’re the one doing the replacing Swan.  Poor Roger’s been my sole consolation these past few weeks,” Killian said, the bells set to ringing again as he let the door swing closed behind him. “She’s going to be highly annoyed that she’ll no longer be the only object of my affection.”

 

“Poor thing,” Emma ran her hands through Roger’s fur as she padded past her into the office. “Maybe I should go, let you break the news to her gently.”

 

“Don’t you dare,” Killian growled as he pulled her into his arms again. “This past week has been torture, not to mention the other two weeks without you by my side.”

 

“Easy, tiger, if you don’t reign it in Jamie might be scarred for life,” Emma smiled and kissed his lips lightly. “And our food will be cold.  I’ve already had ten bucks wasted, I’m not going to suffer through room temperature onion rings.”

 

“Why have you wasted ten dollars, love?” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as he sighed and let her go.

 

“Apparently it’s a heinous crime to bring coffee within two hundred yards of this place.  Jamie, decided that my hot chocolate had to join your Americano for the sacrifice to the trash can,” Emma sighed wistfully as she started unpacking the food.

 

Killian sighed, “Sorry about that, Jamie tends to be a bit over dramatic about the whole Lent thing.  I wouldn’t have bitten your head off if that’s what she told you.”

 

“But you wouldn’t have taken the coffee either.” Emma stated, trying to figure out why she was suddenly uncomfortable.

 

“No, but it’s the thought that counts, yeah?” Killian winked and opened the container she’d placed in front of him. “Did Granny give you a hard time?”

 

“Not really, just wondered why I didn’t let her know you’d be eating alone.  I think she wants to fatten you up or something,” Emma meant it as a joke but it somehow fell flat causing Killian to look up at her.

 

“Is something wrong, Swan?”

 

His voice was full of concern and she almost wanted to brush it off, make another lame attempt at a joke and just enjoy being with him again.  Yet she had promised herself that she would make an effort to be all in with Killian.  She had almost pushed him away completely before he confronted her about it on Valentine’s Day and she had seen how hurt he had been.  Being away for as long as she had only made it abundantly clear how much she wanted to show him how serious she was about them.

 

“I didn’t know that you’re Catholic,” she shrugged, opening her own container trying to be nonchalant. “You never go to church.”

 

“I do, actually,” he said, puzzled. “I used to go to early Sunday Mass and still do when we haven’t spent the night together but if we have I’ll go in the evening, when you’ve gone to Mary Margaret and David’s for dinner.”

 

“But you’re from England,” Emma cringed realizing how blunt she sounded. “I mean, isn’t that the whole point of The Tudors?”

 

“I refuse to believe that you’ve gotten your history lessons from a television show, love,” Killian laughed. “But there are still Catholics in England.  My mother was Irish and made sure her boys were ‘raised right’, as she put it.  After she passed it was something I clung to to keep her close.  When Liam died, well, the Church was the only thing there for me.”

 

“Oh,” Emma dropped her gaze to her grilled cheese, the heat in her cheeks rising by the second. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

 

“Emma,” Killian sighed.  He lifted her chin with a gentle touch to look her in the eye, “It’s okay, I’ve made my peace with their deaths even if it still hurts some days.  Yes, I go to church but it wasn’t a big deal before and it shouldn’t be one now.  Can we eat?  Because if we wait any longer Roger is going to grow impatient and take it all for herself.”

 

With a genuine laugh Emma let her unease slide off her shoulders.  She still wasn’t sure what had brought it on in the first place but hearing Killian scolding Roger for eyeing his burger had her shrugging internally and letting it go for the moment.

 

Two weeks passed before it came back and with a vengeance.

 

She had nearly forgotten all about his abstinence from coffee and liquor in the heady joy of being reunited.  It wasn’t as bad as Jamie had made it out to be, Killian would still make her a cup of coffee in the morning if she stayed at his place and didn’t glare at her if she had a glass of wine or a beer with dinner.  Even when she would slip up and make him coffee or pour him a drink he would give her a small kiss for her thoughtfulness and tell her how many days they both had left to suffer through.  Everything was normal, blissfully so, until she went to question a woman about a new skip.

 

The woman, the guy’s aunt,  had been nice, a bit confused at times but willing to answer Emma’s questions as best she could.  When Emma had gotten up to leave, however, the woman had said she’d say a prayer for her that night.  It was a harmless phrase but Emma found herself stuttering a quick goodbye and practically running to her car to escape.  She holed herself up in her apartment refusing to answer any calls or texts and was therefore unsurprised when Killian practically broke down her door a few hours later.

 

“Emma?!  What’s wrong?  I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for two hours!”

 

He knelt in front of her, placing his hands on her knees gently.  She was sitting cross legged on her couch and had been since she had gotten home.  Her thoughts were a mess and him being there wasn’t a help and she shuddered when she realized it.

 

“Emma, love, what is it?” Killian stood up, grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders.  He sat next to her, hand back on her leg, but she made no move to respond, physically or verbally, “Jesus, love, talk to me.”

 

“Ha,” she said without humor. “It’s not nice to take the Lord’s name in vain.”

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Nothing.  Forget I said anything.  Are you hungry?  I’m hungry,” she made to get up but the hand on her leg prevented it.

 

“Hey, hey,” Killian used his free hand to turn her head toward him. “What is going on in that head of yours, love?”

 

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re into this whole religion thing?” She winced when he did, her blunt words not exactly how she wanted to bring it up.

 

“I didn’t think it mattered,” His voice lifted at the end of his statement almost making it a question. “Does- does it bother you?”

 

Emma hated how unsure he sounded, how she made him doubt her, but most of all she hated the way she’d begun to doubt herself.

 

“No... yes?  I’m not sure,” she whispered. “Were you hiding it from me?”

 

“Of course not!  You never asked and I know you well enough to know that something about it upsets you,” his voice was quiet but she could hear the tension in it. “All you had to do was ask, Emma.”

 

“I’m asking now.”

 

“Then yes, I’m into ‘this whole religion thing’ as you put it.  I’ve been a practicing Catholic all my life,” he looked at her carefully. “What happened?”

 

“What do you mean?” She could feel her defenses rising.

 

“Something happened today that upset you because of something that had happened to you before,” Killian tilted his head as he regarded her. “What is it?”

 

Emma closed her eyes, feeling as though she were standing on the edge of a cliff.  She could jump and hope that he’d be there to catch her or she could back away, not only from the drop but from him, from them.  That, she found, was a far scarier prospect.

 

“Did you know that a lot of foster families are pretty good, on the whole?  Some are people who can’t have children or just have that weird compulsion to help those worse off than them and a good chunk of them are those good samaritans doing God’s work,” she took a deep breath, glad he wasn’t saying a word. “Then of course there are the people who are just doing it for the money, cramming too many kids into their house, or the ones who are just as jaded as the kids they have to put up with.  The worst are the ones who decide that God’s work means they can be as cruel as they want and justify it to themselves by saying some words followed by an Amen at the end of the day.”

 

“Emma,” Killian’s voice was pained but  he made no move to pull her closer and she was glad.

 

“I know that not everyone who believes in whatever God they prescribe to is like that but I just can’t bring myself to believe.  Not when I still have scars from the time I refused to say Grace over a piece of bread and a glass of water.  They made sure to say a prayer for my soul after”

 

Killian didn’t hesitate to pull her into his arms and she went willingly, ready to be held.  She ended up curled up in his lap and holding him just as tightly as he was holding her.  There were no tears, but she felt as if she’d been crying for hours.  He was muttering into her hair but she couldn’t make out what he was saying.  It was enough that he was still there, with her.

 

The breath she released after a few minutes was shaky but relieved.  She finally understood why she had been uneasy when she found out about Killian’s faith.  It wasn’t because he hadn’t told her about such a big part of his life, although she wasn’t exactly thrilled about that.  It was because she had been worried that when he found out she didn’t believe at all that he’d leave and go find someone who did.  Someone who didn’t have as much baggage about the whole thing.

 

“I’m sorry that happened to you, love,” he murmured in her ear, his chin resting on her shoulder.

 

“I’ve had a lot of things happen to me, Killian.  You can’t apologize for all of them,” she sighed.

 

“No, but I can bloody well try,” he squeezed her to him gently.  He took in a deep breath and asked quietly,  “Did you think that I’d try to push you to believe in what I do?”

 

“Maybe,” she paused, wondering if she should tell him the whole truth.  She closed her eyes and decided he deserved to know. “Or maybe you’d realize that you’d be better of with someone who actually believes there’s a God.”

 

It was a harsh thing to say, she knew it was, but Emma needed him to know.  She had stepped off that cliff and there was no hope of magically going back to the top.  Killian would understand or he wouldn’t but she had laid all her cards on the table and had nothing left to hide.

 

“Nonsense, love, you don’t need to believe to have faith and you’ve shown me how much faith you have in us, in our future.  Not so long ago I’m not sure you would have told me what you did tonight or perhaps pushed me away completely and pretended everything was fine when it wasn’t.  I don’t want someone who believes, I want, no need, you just the way you are.”

 

Emma buried her face in his chest letting out a relieved laugh that was muffled by his shirt.  They stayed that way until both their stomachs started to growl and Killian reminded her they needed to walk Roger.  She reveled in the ease of it, putting the heaviness of their conversation behind her.

 

Days passed and Emma began to feel that things were returning to how they had been before her time away.  Killian had begun interviewing potential hires for the summer, she’d caught the guy she’d been after, and they spent as much time as they could together.  They didn’t talk about their conversation, it was just another hurdle they had overcome together and moved past without looking back.

 

When Mary Margaret called to invite her and Killian to Sunday dinner the Friday before Emma didn’t think too much about it as she agreed.  She’d always had dinner at the Nolan’s on Sunday nights and lately Mary Margaret had been extending the invitation to Killian.  It wasn’t until she hung up and started to text Killian about the plans that she realized that Easter was on Sunday and she had no idea if Killian would even be free to go.  She had absolutely no idea if it involved a full day at church or what.  Killian hadn’t brought up anything related to religion since their talk but for some reason Emma felt she should know even the smallest fact about an important part of her boyfriend’s life.

 

It took a few phone calls and a lot of reading on Wikipedia but Emma soon came up with a plan.  She didn’t think it would come close to what he’d had waiting for her on Valentine’s day but unlike then she’d done most of the work herself.  Not even Jamie knew what she had planned.

 

Standing outside early Sunday morning in the cold, weak sunshine Emma wondered how in the hell Killian had managed to cope without caffeine for forty days.  It baffled her, she had already had a cup before she left her apartment and was ready for another, but she figured that was the point of giving it up, making a small sacrifice for something much larger than himself.  She could see the appeal but she still didn’t know how he did it.

 

She watched as cars started filling up the parking lot.  Jamie had warned her that it would be busier than normal and Killian would be among the first to arrive.  Emma hadn’t wanted to look like a fool, or at least not as big of a one, and had arrived at the church forty five minutes before the service was supposed to start to make sure she wouldn’t have to find him inside.  It wasn’t long before she recognized his truck when he pulled into the parking lot.  She stood up straight and placed herself where he would easily see her.

 

He was wearing a suit, it was well fitted and dark blue with a crisp white buttoned up shirt and skinny black tie under the jacket, something she’d never seen in months they’d been dating.  Mostly he wore jeans and dress shirts to work and t-shirts the rest of the time.  She was glad that during her call with Mary Margaret her friend had told her to wear something nice.  The floral print dress she was wearing had been a gift from the woman herself and Emma was pleased to see that she blended in with the other women climbing the steps to enter the church.

 

The moment Killian caught sight of her would be a memory she’d cherish forever.  He had been running his hand through his hair, trying in vain to tame it and causing her to laugh at his attempts.  When he had looked up and seen her standing there his jaw had dropped and he’d missed a step, causing him to stumble slightly and her to laugh even more.  A smile broke out on his face and he practically bounced up the remaining steps to stop in front of her.

 

“What are you doing here?” He asked in wonder. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

 

“Well, I figured you’re very understanding when I decide to watch a marathon of those house hunting shows and I do it so much that you could say that I watch it religiously,” she winked and gave him a smile of her own. “I thought that maybe I could see what the big deal was.”

 

“You didn’t need to do this, love.  I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” Killian grabbed her hands and gave them a gentle squeeze. “You have nothing to prove to me.”

 

“I know, but this is a big part of who you are and I want to understand it, even if it’s just a tiny bit of it.”

 

His smile was blinding as he pulled her in for a kiss.  She kept it somewhat tame and pulled away far too soon for her liking but they were outside of a church.  Yet, she was thrilled he was willing to indulge her, especially in this.  As they entered the church hand in hand and Emma found she was only slightly nervous.

 

The Mass was confusing and less boring than she had anticipated.  She couldn’t quite get the hang of the sitting, standing and kneeling that kept happening and the call and response was a little weird to her but she found there were parts that she truly enjoyed.  The priest was surprisingly funny and she had found herself enthralled by his homily, a word she had no idea what it meant until Killian explained it to her under his breath, grinning the whole time.  Even the Communion was interesting, despite the fact that she couldn’t participate.

 

As they left, Killian pausing to make the sign of the cross with Holy Water on his fingertips, Emma felt a sort of contentment.  She wasn’t entirely sold on the whole thing but she was starting to get why it was such an important thing to a lot of people.

 

“Well, what did you think, Swan?  Fancy coming back next week?” Killian’s eyes were glittering with joy.

 

“It was nice, I see why you like it,” she leaned into him, feeling her need for more coffee acutely. “As for joining you next week maybe not so much.”

 

“Thought as much,” his arm settled around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, love, I’ll only drag you here for the important holidays.”

 

“Dragging would be exactly what you’ll have to do,” she smirked up at him. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean you get a free pass on this break of dawn shenanigans.”

 

Emma watched as her words sunk in.  She had known for a while how she felt about him and he had shown her time and again how he felt in return.  Seeing his contentment with her at his side finally convinced her to let him know in so many words.  His look of wonder had returned which quickly morphed into a giddy smile, his eyes bright and soft and oh so blue all at once.

 

“You love me?” He said quietly, as though saying it any louder would negate it.

 

“I don’t go to church for just anyone,” she teased. “But yeah, I love you.”

 

“Good, because I love you too.”

 

For the second time in as many hours Emma found herself kissing Killian in front of the church.  She could feel the blush climbing her cheeks and broke away much quicker than she had earlier.  Something about actually experiencing a Mass acted as a definite mood killer.  Killian chuckled when he opened his eyes and saw her blush.  He tucked her into his side and pulled her along towards his truck.

 

“Where are we going?  Don’t forget we’re going to dinner out at the Nolan’s at five.”

 

“I’m well aware but I’m hungry now, besides Easter Brunch at Granny’s is something to behold,” Killian pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “And I could  _ really _ use a cup of coffee.”

 

Emma’s laughter pealed out across the parking lot.  She might not have been converted that day but she found that she did believe in someone and that he believed in her just as much.


	5. Fourth of July

It was at least eighty-five degrees in the apartment.  Killian, for some reason, refused to run the air conditioning overnight relying instead on three separate fans and open windows to create the illusion of a cool breeze.  Emma was fine with that, she knew how much running the air conditioner twenty-four hours a day cost but being sandwiched between two bodies that ran as hot as furnaces made her want to crank it up to full blast and turn Killian’s apartment into an igloo.

 

Poor Roger had been shaved a few days earlier.  She had looked so sad and pathetic when Emma saw her that she had turned around and walked straight out of Killian’s apartment.  The nearest pet store had offered her a discount on all the treats and toys she had bought to cheer Roger up.  Now Emma envied the dog’s shorter hair as she huffed and tried to redo her bun without knocking Roger off the side of the bed or elbowing Killian in the face.  How either one of them were able to sleep in the heat astounded her.  Almost as much as Killian’s unconscious instinct to pull her closer no matter how far apart they started out when they went to bed.  She used to find it cute but only when her skin wasn’t sticking to his in all the wrong kind of ways.

 

With another huff and a not so gentle nudge against Killian’s shin Emma looked at the clock and groaned quietly when she made out the time over Roger’s head.  It was three in the morning and she was wide awake, pretty much had been since Roger joined them around one-thirty.  They both agreed that Roger shouldn’t sleep with them on the bed but every night like clockwork she joined them and they just shuffled around to make room.  It wasn’t such a bad arrangement, until the weather had started to get warmer.

 

Emma rolled onto her back and wiggled a little hoping to make a little breathing room for herself.  Staring up above her she wondered when the tiny cracks in Killian’s ceiling had become as well known to her as the ones in her own apartment.  Sure, she’d been spending more and more time at his place but she still slept at her’s on occasion.  At least often enough to get her mail. Such as the lease renewal that had arrived at the beginning of the month.  With a grimace she was reminded why she had been awake since Roger’s arrival.

 

The letter had been a surprise, not because her lease was up but because the landlord had actually sent the letter at all.  Most of the places she’d lived in had either changed the locks on her or the landlord had only given her a day or two to pack up and move out.  The letter informed her that she had been given three months notice to either renew her lease or turn in her notice.  She had thought it was a joke until she’d called the landlord was told that it wasn’t.

 

The letter had arrived at the beginning of June, nearly two weeks before.  It had floated in and out of her thoughts since then always with the same question attached that she’d asked herself when she had first read it.  Did she want to keep her apartment, that she hardly stayed in anymore, or did she want to finally have a conversation with Killian about moving in together?

 

It was a big step and seemed fast for a normal relationship and by her slow as molasses standards it was a jump to lightspeed.  They’d only been dating for almost six months but they were the best six months of her entire life.  Sure they’d had fights, some that escalated so much she’d been worried about them making it through, but they’d always made up.  Killian had even made the seemingly offhanded comment that when he was with Milah he’d never felt as content and happy as he had at that moment.  Emma still grinned goofily when she thought about that.  That an orphan, former jailbird, with mountains of baggage could make someone that happy.

 

“Emma?” Killian asked groggily. “Why are you awake, love?”

 

“Shit, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Emma mumbled and then sighed in relief as he pulled back to look at her.

 

“S’alright that’s what Sunday morning lie ins are for,” his speech was still slurred from sleep but she could see him trying to wake himself up more.

 

“Hey, go back to sleep.  Nothing’s wrong it’s just too damn hot,” she said as she fanned her hand uselessly in front of her face. “Between you, Roger, and the temperature it’s like I’m being baked alive.”

 

“You could always kick her off,” Killian muttered unhelpfully, his eyes already halfway closed. “She has her own perfectly comfortable bed.”

 

“She’ll just whine and pout until we let her back on.  I think she knows that she’s got us wrapped around her ginormous paw,” Emma picked up the paw closest to her and was rewarded by a lick to the face from Roger and a sleepy chuckle from Killian.

 

“She’s known that since the moment I brought her home, Swan.  You’re just a rather pleasant addition to her already pampered life.  You should see her when you’re not here, I’d say she looks rather pathetic but then I’d just be the pot calling the kettle black,” he sighed and shuffled across the bed. “How’s that, love?  I can’t promise I’ll stay over here but you should be able to fall back asleep before I come back to claim you.”

 

“We should move in together,” Emma blurted out.

 

Killian’s eyes popped open.  It would have been funny if Emma wasn’t terrified.  She hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that in the middle of the night when he was half conscious.  Her bare bones plan had been to talk about it in the light of day, hopefully with a drink or two already swimming in her veins for confidence and possibly after another week or two of going over the pros and cons in her mind about it.  Her big mouth had other plans it seemed.

 

“What?” Killian whispered as he sat up slowly watching her carefully.

 

Emma followed his movements but backed herself up against his headboard to face his position in the middle of the bed.  She wanted to get up and start pacing but settled for wringing her hands in her lap.

 

“I know.  It’s fast, I mean really fast especially for me but when you know you know.  Right?  I’m here almost every night and when I’m not I miss you and Roger but mostly you.  I got a letter about renewing my lease and it got me thinking.”

 

“Swan.”

 

“I mean what’s the point,” she barreled on, wanting to get it all out at once. “Why pay two rents when we can just pay one.  It just makes more sense.  Plus your apartment is better than mine and closer to your business.”

 

“Swan.”

 

“But I understand if you think it’s too soon.  You know what it’s too soon.  I’ll just resign my lease and we can talk about it again later.  Or never.  Whatever you want to do.”

 

“Can I speak now?”

 

Killian placed his warm, calloused hand over hers and she took a deep breath.  She couldn’t bring herself to look up at him.  Her rambling had effectively drained all her courage.  Of course he refused to say a word until she looked at him, using his other hand to nudge her chin up.

 

He looked her squarely in the eye, “My answer is yes, love.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Roger hopped off the bed as Emma launched herself into Killian’s arms giggling happily as they fell to the mattress.  It was still hot as hell but it didn’t stop Emma’s exuberant kisses to turn a little more heated as the reality sunk in.  They were moving in together, moving forward and a little thing like temperature wasn’t going to stop her from celebrating.

 

As the weekend rolled into the work week Emma found herself looking more and more at Craigslist and various real estate websites.  They had only talked about it briefly but had both agreed to look for a new place altogether.  While Killian’s apartment was nice and easily accommodated all three of them at the end of the day it was essentially his.  She had been pleasantly surprised when he suggested finding a place to call theirs, one that she helped pick out to make their new home.

 

She started sending Killian links to various apartments, studios, lofts, and basically anything she thought looked halfway promising.  By the middle of the week she’d set up four appointments for walk-throughs after consulting with Jamie that Killian was free to do them with her.  Killian was busy at work with the summer season officially in full swing and had happily let her do most of the most of the arrangements.

 

“I don’t know, love, it’s pretty far away from the harbor and there’s no space for Roger,” Killian hummed as he looked over his shoulder at the apartment building they had just exited.

 

“Yeah,” she said reluctantly.  She had really liked the open concept floor plan though. “I just don’t think any of the places near the harbor are going to have any room for Roger either.  We need to pick one, the harbor or space for Roger.”

 

“That first one had room,” he said with a shrug.

 

“You didn’t like the neighborhood, remember?” Emma shook her head as she waited for him to unlock his truck. “There’s only one more for today.”

 

“Is it another loft?  I don’t think we should look at any more of those, we’ll need at least two bedrooms so we can have an office space.”

 

“It’s not but I’ll write that down.  You know you could have told me some of things when I sent you all those apartments to look at.”

 

Emma grumbled as she pulled out her notebook where she had been making a list of all the things Killian had found wrong with the other places.  She was dismayed to see that she was nearing the end of the page and the list would probably get even longer.

 

“I guess I had to see places to know what I’m looking for.  Don’t worry, love, we’ll find the perfect place,” he said it with a smile and grabbed her hand to kiss the back of it.

 

“Okay,” she smiled back. “Take a left here.”

 

The next week was pretty much the same as the one before except for one glaring difference.  Emma found plenty of apartments to look at but Killian shot down nearly every one when she sent him the links or found excuses to not be able to make it to the walkthroughs she scheduled.  He didn’t seem to give any of them a chance to impress him.  As she grew more and more frustrated with him she stayed at her own apartment more and more.

 

It was odd to find herself sitting at her own kitchen table, alone, on a Saturday night.  She had a half finished container of chow mein at her elbow and the paperwork to renew her lease sitting in front of her.  Killian was at his apartment, at least she thought he was from how often he was texting her about joining him.  After the sixth text she had lied about having a headache and shut off her phone.

 

Glancing around the table she sighed heavily as her gaze skated over nearly two dozen apartment listings she had printed out over the past two weeks.  Every single one of them had something wrong according to Killian: not enough room, too close to the neighbors, too far from the harbor, and her favorite was the one he barely looked at and said it was haunted.  She didn’t want to believe that he was deliberately finding things wrong but there was no other explanation for how he was acting.

 

Rifling through the new lease she wondered if maybe she had moved too fast and that Killian didn’t want to move in together.  He seemed as affectionate and loving as ever but whenever she brought up finding a place he seemed to hesitate before smiling and looking at what she’d found.  At one point she had asked him if something was wrong but he’d just shaken his head and said that everything was right.

 

It hurt more than she was willing to admit whenever he discovered something wrong with the places she had found.  As much as she tried to convince herself it was all in her mind she couldn’t help but feel that maybe there was something wrong with her.  Killian had seemed thrilled when she had first brought it up but his enthusiasm had taken a nosedive since.  It almost felt like he was merely humoring her until she gave up on the idea all together.

 

“He’s not doing that and you know it,” Emma muttered to herself angrily as she cleaned up the table.

 

She left the lease where it was.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright, love?” Killian asked as he pulled into a spot a few houses down from Mary Margaret and David’s house.

 

“Yeah, I think it was just stress getting to me,” Emma answered guiltily, unbuckling her seatbelt and grabbing the bottle of wine from between her feet. “You know a new case, trying to find a place, wondering what Mary Margaret’s going to saddle me with this year at their Fourth of July party.  It all kinda dropped on me at once.”

 

“Don’t work too hard, Swan.  We can put off finding a suitable place until after the holiday if that helps,” he said as he stepped out of the truck.

 

Emma winced as he shut the door.  She had noticed his quick glance away when she mentioned finding a place and his wanting to push it back, even by a few days, was as clear a sign as any.  He didn’t want to move in together, not really.

 

Dinner was almost torture for her.  While she hadn’t mentioned anything to Mary Margaret or David they both seemed to have picked up on something because they wouldn’t stop talking about all the houses for sale in the neighborhood.  Killian seemed unaffected by it, discussing housing prices and mortgages like he was the one who had been putting in weeks of effort looking for a place.  Emma had to bite her tongue and force a smile more than once when Mary Margaret would catch her eye with a knowing smile.

 

Finally they finished eating.  To her surprise Mary Margaret hadn’t made dessert.  Even more surprising she sent David and Killian to the store with the vague instructions to bring back whatever they wanted.  The second they heard David’s car pull out of the driveway Emma found out why.

 

“Okay, spill,” Mary Margaret said turning to her with her hands on her hips. “You were quiet all through dinner and barely looked at Killian.  What’s going on?”

 

“You made a pie didn’t you?” Emma sighed and began clearing the plates from the table.

 

“Of course I did.  I’ll just save it for Thursday.  You’re still coming for the barbeque right?” Mary Margaret asked as she walked into the kitchen and started running water in the sink.

 

“As long as I’m not in charge of the actual barbeque I’ll be there.  Did you need me to bring anything?  Or should I just raid Killian’s wine storage for the good stuff?  Will Mulan be here this time or is she out of town again?  I think Ruby said she’d be in town but I can’t really remember-” Emma snapped her mouth shut.

 

“If you’re rambling then I know something is wrong,” Mary Margaret spun around to eye her closely, blindly shutting off the water behind her. “Did Killian do something?”

 

“No, no, not like that,” Emma sighed, resigned to talking but also relieved to let someone else help her sort through what she was feeling.  She hopped up on the counter ready to dry the dishes as she talked. “We’re looking for a place.”

 

“To move in together?” Mary Margaret asked cautiously.  Emma could see she wanted to clap her hands in excitement but held back. “That’s big Emma.”

 

“It’s huge and you know it.  The last time I lived with a guy it was Neal in my car or shitty hotel rooms we snuck into,” That had been over ten years before.  Emma picked up a towel and began wringing in her hands. “I think I may have suggested it too soon.”

 

The sound of a plate falling into the water caught her attention.  Mary Margaret was staring at her in disbelief.

 

“Wait, you asked him?”

 

“I got a notice from my landlord about renewing my lease and it got me thinking.  I mean I had been kind of thinking about it before but the letter just gave me a reason to bring it up.  Things have been so good, so much better than I believed it could be and I just wanted it to keep going.  I guess I thought moving in together would do that.  But I’m pretty sure I’ve screwed everything up,” Emma said feeling a lump forming in her throat.

 

She dropped her head to the cabinet behind her and willed the tears away.  It had been a long time since she’d cried opting instead to push everything down and deal with it.  Mary Margaret’s hand on her knee broke whatever dam she’d built causing the tears to streak slowly down her cheeks.

 

“Oh, Emma, no you haven’t screwed anything up,” Mary Margaret moved to stand in front of her grabbing her hands. “Emma, Killian is still completely head over heels for you.  He kept looking at you and he seemed so worried.  It wasn’t only you that was throwing up red flags at that table tonight.  Why do you think I sent him and David to the store?

 

“The thing is nothing is going to get better until you talk to him.  Trust me the longer you wait the more miserable you’ll be and the worse it’s going to get.”

 

“I know,” Emma said miserably as she pulled her hand from Mary Margaret’s and used the towel to dab at her face. “Do I look like I’ve been crying?”

 

Mary Margaret frowned, knowing the conversation was over.  Squeezing her hands she moved back to the sink and started washing dishes again.

 

“By the time they’re back they won’t notice.”

 

After the store bought ice cream was doled out and eaten Emma claimed that she was tired and ready to leave.  She caught the worried look from Killian that Mary Margaret must have seen all night.  It took everything within her to not reassure him that she was fine.  He didn’t deserve to be lied to but she didn’t have the energy to get into everything that had been bugging her.

 

They said their goodbyes with a whisper from Mary Margaret to talk to Killian.  Emma offered her a small smile but made no promises.

 

It was a nice night and they walked hand in hand to Killian’s truck.  She was lost in her thoughts when she saw it.  How she had missed the for sale sign in the yard of the house Killian had parked next to she didn’t know.  What she did know was that even in the orange glow of streetlamps the house looked perfect.  It was easy to see that the layout was similar to the Nolan’s house but it had a much bigger yard.  For a moment she could see herself weeding the flowerbed while Killian and Roger wrestled on the grass like they did in the park.  She blinked and the vision was gone.

 

“Emma, are you alright?” Killian’s hand squeezed hers gently.

 

“I’m,” she looked at him and saw the worried look again, “just tired is all.  You can drop me off at my place tonight.”

 

“Oh, I thought you’d want to come home with me,” Killian said, his disappointment easy to see.

 

“Not tonight,” she said quietly.

 

The drive back to the city was silent.  Emma almost wanted to start rambling to keep her thoughts from becoming too loud.  She could tell Killian wanted to say something too but kept his mouth shut.  He couldn’t seem to help the questioning glances he sent her way though.

 

“Do you want me to stay?” Killian asked as he double parked outside of her apartment building.

 

“No, you have that meeting first thing and I think Stan wants me in early to go over that new case,” Emma answered, opening the truck door and ready to step out. “Go home, get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“Okay,” he said reluctantly. “Love you.”

 

“Love you too.”

 

She gave him a quick kiss and hopped out of the truck.  It was harder than she expected to walk through the front door of her building and away from him.  He had to know that something was seriously wrong.  They hadn’t spent a night together in nearly a week, even though they saw each other almost every day.

 

Trudging up the stairs to her apartment she wondered how much longer she could avoid the issue before it all came to a head.  Avoidance was her specialty, one that she had perfected over the years.  She had been trying harder with Killian not to fall into her old habits but sometimes it was all too much.  His reluctance to commit to a place had her scrambling back to her self protective patterns and she hated it.

 

As she went through her nightly routine she thought back on what Mary Margaret had told her.  Scowling as she scrubbed her face she realized that Mary Margaret was right.  She’d have to talk to Killian and soon or things would get way worse than they already were.

 

Suddenly she heard her front door open.  She was sure she had locked it and only two people had a key but she was instantly wary.  Blinking furiously against the soap that still covered her face she called out.

 

“Hello?”

 

“It’s just me, love,” Killian called back.

 

“Killian?” She was relieved it was him but wary as to why he had come back. “What’re you doing here?”

 

“Where are you, Swan?” His voice seemed to come from the living room or just slightly down her hallway.

 

“In here,” she answered.  Hearing his footsteps heading toward her she quickly turned on the tap. “Let me finish up in here.  You can wait in the living room if you want.”

 

“I’m fine waiting here,” he said as he stepped into the doorway and leaned on the door jamb.

 

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, feeling her hackles rising.

 

Rinsing her face she tried to calm herself down.  She was nervous about why he had come back.  At the same time she felt her defenses rise up.  He hadn’t listened to her suggestion to wait in the living room, instead planting himself right in her space.  Like he thought she would try to come up with excuses not to talk about whatever it was that brought him back.  As she pat her face dry with a towel she took a deep breath.

 

“I thought you were going home,” she said, folding the towel and hanging it back on its rack.

 

“I got about two blocks away and decided to come back,” he said with a shrug.

 

He didn’t move as she stepped towards him to leave the bathroom.  Emma raised her eyebrows at him and finally after a moment he pushed himself off and out of her way.  She walked towards the living room, wanting whatever was going to happen between them happen in a somewhat open space.

 

“Why?” Her control on her temper was starting to slip. “Roger needs to be walked and you have that meeting in the morning.  Whatever this is about couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”

 

“Not really no,” he said from behind her.

 

Turning to face him she saw that he looked like he was ready for a fight.  He was standing with his feet apart and his arms crossed.  She started to see red as he stared stone faced at her.

 

“What?” She asked sharply.

 

“Swan, are you avoiding me?”

 

His return question was blunt and she had to fight against a wince.

 

“I’m not avoiding you.  I’m just dealing with,” she waved her hand in front of her, “stuff.”

 

“Don’t tell me you’re not avoiding me because I’m actually quite perceptive and this,” he waved his hand too and she felt like he was mocking her, “this is avoiding me.  Are you having second thoughts?”

 

“Second thoughts?” She asked slowly.

 

“About moving in together.  Is that why you’ve been staying here this past week, because you don’t want to live with me?”

 

Emma stared at him in disbelief.  All the searching she had done, the dozens of links she’d sent him, the tours she’d set up and he thought she was the one that didn’t want to move in together.

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?  That’s what you think this is about?”

 

She spun on her heel and stormed into the kitchen.  Wrenching open a drawer she pulled out a ream of papers, each one with an apartment listing printed on it.  When she turned back around he was behind her again, eyes stormy.

 

“I have been putting everything into finding a place for us to live, Killian,” she shoved the papers into his chest.  When he brought his arm up to hold them she wrenched her hand away. “You’re the one that’s dragging your feet, finding something wrong with every place I’ve found.  Do you think this is easy for me?  You tell me that I’m your ‘happy ending’ that you’re ‘in it for the long haul’ but when it comes down to it you can’t commit.”

 

“That’s not-”

 

“What, Killian?  Not what?  I’m pretty perceptive too but it wouldn’t take Sherlock fucking Holmes to figure out that you don’t see a future with me.”

 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she wished she could pull them back.  It was a thought that had been at the back of her mind, one she hadn’t wanted to give any weight.  There was a vice like grip on her heart and Killian’s response would either crush it or release it.

 

“Emma, is that what you believe?” Killian sounded horrified and heartbroken, almost seeming to sag as the fight left him.

 

“What do you think?  This was a big thing for me, Killian, really big.  I love you and thought that maybe we’d have the home I’d always dreamed about,” her voice started to waver and the tears gathered in her eyes. “But I should have known it was just another false hope.  I’d forgotten how much it fucking hurts when I get let down, again.”

 

“No, love,” Killian dropped the papers in his arms and pulled her to him. “Emma, no, don’t think like that.  Never think that I don’t want to be with you.  I love you and you are my future, my everything.”

 

“Then why?  Why have you been acting like you don’t?” She asked as she pulled back to look at him when he answered.

 

He sighed deeply and wiped his thumb under her eyes where a few tears had escaped, “Do you mind taking this to the couch?  It’s a bit of a tale.”

 

With a nod she pulled herself from his arms.  Immediately he grabbed her hand, running his thumb over her knuckles.  She gave him a wan smile in return.

 

When they settled on the couch Killian took a deep breath and looked at her head on.  Suddenly Emma felt like she wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say.

 

“I’ve told you about Milah, yeah?”

 

He had and she realized he was only asking to prepare her for what he had to say.  She nodded but kept quiet.

 

“I know you know about how I was going to propose and we were adopting Roger at the time.  What I didn’t tell you is how we had also been looking for a perfect place to move into, together,” he gave her hand a little shake. “I had been the one to find the prospective apartments, lining up walkthroughs, gathering applications and such.  I had also turned in my notice to my landlord.”

 

“Oh,” she had no words.  She knew where the story was going.

 

“Yeah.  We had been together for a year at that point and I’d had no idea that she’d had a husband let alone that she was still married to him.  A week before I had to move out of my apartment and into the one we’d found she told me everything and then proceeded to tell me that we were over.  I ended up breaking that new lease and crashing on Will’s couch for almost eight months before I could afford a place of my own again and that would allow pets.  It took a few more years before my business was doing well enough to move into the apartment I’m in now.”

 

“I’m not her, Killian,” Emma said gently but still a little hurt that he felt that she could be.

 

“I know that but I can’t help feeling like it could happen again.  That the happiness could be ripped away in an instant and I’d be left trying to hold myself together with bloody hands.  You’re not her, you are so much more to me than she ever was but it’s something I can’t seem to shake.  Especially because-”

 

“Because it’s all happening so fast,” Emma finished for him.

 

“Yeah,” he agreed.

 

“You should have told me.” 

 

“I know.”

 

She dropped her gaze to their hands.  His perpetually warmer ones practically engulfed hers and she took courage that he was finally opening up to her, not only about Milah but about his fears and hopes for them.

 

“I’m scared too, you know,” she said pulling him closer to her.  Looking up she found him watching her with a soft gaze. “I haven’t thought about making a life with someone since Neal.  With you though, it just feels right.”

 

“It does doesn’t it?” He asked somewhat in awe.

 

“Yeah and, sure, maybe things are moving fast but we’ve kinda been that way since the start.  We’ve done pretty well so far haven’t we?” She gave him a small smile.

 

“I believe we have, love,” he pulled his hand from hers and draped his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. “I’m sorry I made you feel unworthy.”

 

“I’m sorry I avoided talking to you about it,” she sighed.

 

“Is it alright if I stay?” He murmured into her hair as he dropped a kiss to the top of her head.

 

“Yeah, but what about Roger and your meeting?” She tipped her head back to look at him.

 

“I’ll just have to leave earlier tomorrow, won’t I?  There’s nothing you can say to convince me otherwise, Swan,” he gave her a warm smile, leaning down to press his forehead to hers.

 

“Good.”

 

The party was in full swing at Mary Margaret and David’s when Killian beckoned her to join him.  She’d been stuck in a conversation with Regina so she was all too happy to make her excuses.

 

After their fight and talk they had agreed to put off looking for a place until after the holiday.  Killian had promised that he would help and seriously consider the options they might find.  Emma had slept peacefully in his arms that night and every night since.

 

“What’s up?” She asked grabbing his beer from his hand and taking a swig.

 

He scowled and stole it back, “Do you think our hosts will mind us stepping out for a bit?”

 

Emma looked back across the backyard.  David was manning the grill with Robin at his elbow and Mary Margaret had been cornered by Regina.  Ruby and Mulan had also just arrived and were causing enough of a distraction for everyone.

 

“No, but if you think I’m down for a quickie you’re wrong.  After what happened on Memorial Day I’ve got my fill of trying to be voyeuristic,” she shuddered remembering how close David had been to catching them in the master bathroom.

 

“I like where your head’s at, Swan, but I promise you I have only the most innocent of intentions,” he said placing a hand over his heart and holding up the one with the beer in a half pledge. “Follow me if you will.”

 

Killian led her back through the house past a group of people in the kitchen, leaving his beer on the counter as he went, and then around some more people gathered in the living room.  It seemed every year the party grew and with various couples starting to have kids it would only grow larger.  Emma followed Killian out onto the sidewalk wondering if they’d ever have a place big enough to host massive parties of their own.

 

She trailed behind him down the street watching various neighborhood kids running between one yard and another.  It was hours until sunset but several of them already had sparklers and she could hear Piccolo Pete’s being set off on the next block over.  A sudden feeling of wistfulness hit her, more like melancholy, that faded slightly when she looked at Killian.

 

He had stopped in front of the house she had noticed a few days before, the one with the for sale sign in the yard.  As she caught up with him she saw he was carefully watching her approach and had shoved his hands in his pockets.  She had a feeling he was trying to prevent himself from running his hands through his hair or scratching the back of his neck, both sure signs that he was nervous.

 

“Alright, spill,” she said planting her own hands on her hips. “Why did you drag me out here?”

 

“Well, I noticed you admiring this house last time we were out here,” he said rocking on his heels. “I called in a few favors and got us a tour.”

 

“Wait, what?” Emma turned to the house and saw a woman walking towards them dressed casually but carrying a slim briefcase.

 

“Even if it has none of the things we’re looking for I wanted to show you that I’m absolutely committed to this,” he slipped his hand into hers and she turned back to look at him. “I want to build a future with you, Emma, because the only future I want is with you and you alone.”

 

“You want to buy a house?” She watched as he nodded shyly.  To keep her jaw from dropping she looked back at the house and then at the woman, who she now realized was a real estate agent. “But it’s so far from the harbor.”

 

“It is but I’ve it on good authority that this neighborhood is worth the commute.”

 

Emma smiled and felt giddy as she really took in the sight before her.  The house could be the exact opposite of what they wanted but that didn’t matter.  What mattered was that Killian was giving her what she’d always wished for and never had: a home.


	6. Halloween

“Jamie, where the bloody hell did those alcohol permits go?  The last thing we need is a damn ATF agent shutting us down before we’ve even opened the first bottle of wine.”

 

“You’d probably get popped by the staties first, being a public menace on the water and all.”

 

Killian looked up from the haphazard piles of papers he had been rifling through surprised to see Emma framed by the doorway to his office.  She was smiling indulgently at him.  He grinned back until he took in her appearance, nice makeup, heels, stunning dress, and began to frown instead.

 

“Not that I’m not pleased to see you, love, but I thought we were leaving from home?”

 

“And we would have if you had been there an hour ago,” Emma scolded lightly, smoothing out the skirt of her dress.

 

“An hour ago?” Killian echoed blankly.  He checked the time on his watch, the clock on the wall, then his computer and was dismayed to see they all read ten past eight.  With frantic movements he started shoving the papers in front of him into somewhat reasonable piles, “Ah shit, Emma, I’m sorry.  Let me just- give me ten, no five minutes to- I’m a bloody idiot, can’t even-”

 

“Killian, stop,” Emma walked over to him.  Grabbing his hands that were still trying to organize his desk she pulled them around her waist as she settled on his lap, “Jamie texted me two hours ago to let me know that you’d definitely be late.  She also changed our reservations to eight thirty so we have a little time for you to finish up what you can.  The rest can wait until tomorrow morning.”

 

He let out a sigh and dropped his head to her shoulder, “I should give that lass a raise.”

 

“You just gave her one last month,” Emma laughed as she started dragging her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.  He heard her take in a hesitant breath, “Can I ask you something?”

 

“Of course, love, anything,” he said pulling back to look at her and giving her sides an encouraging squeeze.

 

“What’s so special about this party?  Your company has hosted a bunch of them before, we’ve even gone to a couple of them, but I’ve never seen you like this.  Jamie hasn’t either and that’s saying something,” Emma raised an eyebrow but Killian could see the concern lingering in her eyes.

 

“It’s not so much the event as it is the guests that will be in attendance,” he said with a sigh, dropping his head to the back of his chair.  He hummed as her fingers moved from the base of his skull to his temples, continuing her gentle ministrations, “With the mayor as host and many important figures in both public and private sectors attending everything has to be perfectly in line.  Not only do I have to worry about complying with the various laws in place but I have to ensure that the party goes off without a hitch and the guests have a marvelous time.  This could open up new possibilities for the company or it could ruin me completely.”

 

“So, no pressure then?” Emma said, chuckling.

 

Killian gave a laugh of his own but his was tinged with a bit of panic and stress, making it sound more maniacal than amused.  Emma’s fingers came to a stop and he looked up at her to find her staring back at him with a calculating look on her face.  Without a word she stood up from his lap and dug her phone out of the small purse she was carrying.

 

“Swan, what are you doing?”

 

“Shh,” she held up a hand as she put the phone to her ear, “Hi, I’d like to cancel my reservation?”

 

“Swan!” Killian stood quickly but stopped as she waved her hand at him.

 

“Jones, party of two at eight thirty.  Uh huh.  Thank you.  You too,” Emma ended the call but before he could get a word out she was dialing again.  She shot him a warm smile before she focused on the call, “Hi, I’d like to order for delivery?  Two orders of number four, one number two, one number seven, and one large chow mein-”

 

“Don’t forget the wonton soup,” Killian said weakly.

 

“And a small wonton soup,” Emma said with a grin.  She paused as she listened to the other half of the call, “Yep, that sounds right.  1552 East Harbor Ave.  Perfect.  Thank you.”

 

Without pause she kicked off her heels and unceremoniously dropped her purse next to them.  She disappeared for a moment, only to return dragging what looked to be Jamie’s chair behind her.  Wheeling it to the side of his desk she dropped down into it and pulled a pile of papers towards her.

 

“So, what will this alcohol license look like?”

 

“Er, a bit like a certificate,” he gestured vaguely behind him where his degrees were on display, “It’s not hard to miss.”

 

“And yet you did,” Emma teased, sorting through the papers in her hand. “After we find it what else needs to be done?”

 

“Emma, you don’t need to do this,” he sighed as he knelt down next to her, placing his hand over hers. “We could have gone out like we planned.  This can wait until tomorrow.”

 

“The party is in two days and you’ve been stressing over it for a month,” Emma said softly as she flipped her hand over and tangled her fingers through his. “You can take me out some other time, preferably when costumes and elected officials aren’t involved.”

 

“Ah, then I’m assuming taking you to the mayor’s Halloween party doesn’t count?”

 

“Absolutely not, you’ll be too distracted during it to show me a good time,” Emma huffed.

 

“I swear to you that once the party is underway you’ll have my undivided attention,” Killian promised, worried that she felt he had been neglecting her.

 

“Oh, I didn’t mean you’d be distracted by work,” Emma said with a sly smile. “You’re not the only one who’s been planning for this party for the past month.”

 

“Really?” He asked, work suddenly the last thing on his mind.

 

“Let’s just say I had Ruby help me pick out my costume.”

 

“Did she now?” He leaned close, intrigued.

 

“She did,” Emma answered in a half whisper. “Now, about that liquor license.”

 

“It can wait. We’ve some time before the food arrives, yeah?” He pulled the papers from her hand.

 

“Another fifteen minutes or so,” she said with a smile.

 

“I do believe I’ve earned a break, Swan.  Care to indulge me?”

 

“I think you’re the one about to indulge me.”

 

“I think you’re right, love.”

 

Later that night, after cleaning up the mess from both their dinner and earlier activities, they had tackled the small details that had been pushed aside in preparation for the mayor’s party.  Emma’s help had been essential, if not mildly distracting.  She had found the elusive alcohol license tucked in the folder that held the mayor’s specifications for the night and then she had moved on to typing up the final guest list while he took inventory and double or even triple checked the catering, floral, and various other orders and reservations for the night he had made.  They had left his office hand in hand with much of the remaining tasks finished and yet his mind was far from calm as they made their way back to their apartment.

 

As Emma readied herself for bed Killian found himself far from the beginning stages of settling down for the night.  He walked aimlessly through the living room, stopping to get a glass of water from the kitchen, before heading down the hall to their bedroom.  Roger was laying at Emma’s feet as she washed her face in their en suite.  Killian slipped back out of the room before either one of them noticed he was there.

 

Emma had moved into his apartment with him and Roger at the beginning of August.  Once he had fully committed to finding a house with her their plans had abruptly come to a standstill and she had already given her notice to her landlord.  The house they had toured on the Fourth of July had been perfect, everything they had wanted with the added bonus of being near friends.  When it had come time to finding the money to put a bid on it, however, they had reached a snag.

 

It seemed that no bank was willing to give them the loan they needed.  The first issue was that Emma had no credit to speak of.  She had no credit cards, no student loans she had paid off, and her car had been a gift of sorts, meaning on paper she appeared as more of a risk than anything.  Then his issues had inevitably been brought up.

 

He hadn’t allowed the men and women denying them their loan to go into details, he knew them by heart.  Liam’s death had left him with a small amount of money, enough to pay off the remainder of his own school loans and to have a bit left over to start his company.  When he had met Milah he had just been starting to turn a profit on tours and by allowing the rich to use his boats as their playthings for a weekend.  As he grew more successful he had poured more and more money into keeping Milah happy instead of investing in his company, the first of many things he had done wrong.

 

He had told Emma about living on Will’s couch after things ended with Milah but he hadn’t told her how he’d gone nearly bankrupt as well.  Killian had foolishly tried to win Milah back and convince her to leave her husband.   The stunning pieces of jewelry and extravagant gifts he’d had delivered anonymously to her office and the lavish and completely ostentatious yacht that he’d named after her had backfired completely.  Milah had kept everything he had sent her and her only response had been to send him a note telling him to be more discrete so her husband would remain in the dark.

 

The sudden drain on his finances had caught up with him quickly, as did the stark reality that Milah would never love him as he did her.  It had taken all his savings and a massive reduction to the company to save himself from going under completely.  Things had finally started recouping when Emma first showed up at that Starbucks on Christmas three years previous but he still felt as though he was clawing himself out of the wreckage.  The banks seemed only too eager to drive that point home and he was too ashamed to tell Emma the truth.  Instead he was putting all his hopes on the mayor’s party to bring him fully out of the red.  A foolish notion but unavoidable.

 

“Killian?  Are you coming to bed?” Emma’s voice sounded from down the hall to where he was standing staring blankly out the living room window.

 

“I’ll be there shortly, love,” Killian called back without turning.

 

“Don’t take too long.”

 

“It won’t,” he promised, but to her to to himself he wasn’t sure.

 

The day of the party had Killian leaving the apartment almost as soon as the sun had risen, a sleepy goodbye from Emma and the sight of Roger taking his place on the bed his parting gifts.  He barely remembered to grab the garment bag with his costume in it from where it had been draped over a kitchen chair as he jetted out the door.

 

As he went through his day he kept up a constant litany of grumbling and curses that the mayor had wanted the party to happen on the thirty-first instead of a more feasible date, like the weekend before.  Instead he had to not only deal with last minute emergencies but had to do so conversing with vampires, witches, ghouls, and goblins throughout the day.  Even giving instructions to Jamie had tested his patience.  She had come to work dressed as a particularly gruesome zombie and it caught him off guard more often than he wanted to admit.  He kept his costume, one he’d worn every year since he’d started his company, tightly sealed in the garment bag hanging behind his office door.  The delivery persons that constantly streamed down and back from the yacht being used for the party didn’t need to be given directions by a particularly surly Captain Hook.

 

Finally the deliveries stopped, the caterers arrived, and everything was as in place as Killian could hope.  He had less than an hour to get ready but he’d been Captain Hook on Halloween for almost his entire adult life, it would take him less than ten minutes to be fully outfitted.  His only regret was that he wasn’t back at the apartment to watch as Emma donned her own costume.  She had refused to give him any kind of hint, even going so far as to keep the costume at Ruby and Mulan’s apartment so he couldn’t peek.  If he hadn’t been completely swamped by the party he would have made a concerted effort to discover what she was going to be.

 

Killian frowned as he adjusted his suspenders over the loose fitting black linen shirt that he’d tucked into somewhat annoyingly tight black leather trousers.  As much as Emma denied it he had been neglecting her for weeks trying to make sure nothing would go amiss with the mayor’s party.  He picked up a waistcoat, yet another piece in black but one of stitched leather and silver fastenings, and put it on but left it open as he picked up his phone instead.  His intent to finally reschedule their cancelled reservations was interrupted by a knock on his door.

 

“Are you decent?” Jamie’s muffled voice sounded through the wood.

 

“By half,” Killian called back.

 

The door swung open to reveal Jamie, whose makeup looked worse for wear even for a zombie, and Emma, who had a thick, dark floral cloak that was clasped at her neck and covered nearly every inch of her, save her face and hair which looked much the same as it always did.

 

“Half is right.  Jeeze, you do know that there’s this big party happening in, like, twenty minutes right?” Jamie said incredulously as she dramatically eyed him from head to toe.

 

“I’ll be ready in five if you’d give me leave,” Killian grumbled as he put his phone down and began clasping his waistcoat closed. “‘Lo, Swan.”

 

“Ooo, he’s already slipping into his fancy pirate accent,” Jamie teased. “If it’s alright with you I’d like to go now.”

 

“You’re not staying?” Emma asked Jamie as she stepped up to him and batted his hands away.  She smirked as she ran her hands over his chest when she finished what he’d started.

 

“Absolutely not.  Elise and I have better plans than pretending to have a good time with a bunch of stuffy rich people,” Jamie scoffed.

 

“Rocky Horror?” Killian asked after he kissed Emma quickly before grabbing the cheap eyeliner from the pocket of the coat that was draped across his desk.

 

“Rocky Horror,” Jamie confirmed. “I’ll see you Monday?”

 

“If everything goes off without a hitch, yes.  If not, well, I’ve plenty hidden away on Treasure Island to leave this place behind with nary a trace,” Killian half joked as he carefully lined his eyes in the reflection of his darkened computer screen, aware of Emma watching him with her lower lip caught between her teeth.

 

“You’re Captain Hook for tonight not Long John Silver,” Jamie said, shaking her head.  She pointed at him, “Monday.  Bye, Emma!”

 

“Bye,” Emma said distractedly.

 

Killian looked up at her, “See something you like, Swan?”

 

“Your socks are blue.”

 

He blinked at her nonsensical answer and then looked down at his toes where he could see that they were indeed clothed in the dress socks he had put on that morning.

 

“So they are.  I assure you no one but us will know, love, I’ll have my boots on in just a moment,” he grinned at her and gave his eyes one final swipe of the eyeliner. “Although I am quite intrigued as to what you’ve got on under that cloak.  I believe you’ve kept a man waiting long enough.”

 

“I suppose I have,” she said with a demure smile.

 

With a flick of her wrist she undid the clasp at her neck and let the cloak fall to the floor.  He didn’t know what he had expected but it was nothing close to what she was showing him.  She must have taken her inspiration from his own costume because there was no other reason she would be standing before him wearing a barmaid’s outfit that looked more appropriate for a seedy pub on a pirate isle than a respectable tavern in any other port.  The dress was a rich, chocolate color and the fabric looked butter soft.  It was clear where Ruby’s influence lay, Emma’s corset appeared to be cinched within an inch of it’s life, cutting a figure that would put Jessica Rabbit to shame.

 

“Can you breath in that, Swan?” Killian croaked, feeling his cheeks heat up as his eyes devoured every inch of her appearance.

 

“Barely but that look on your face makes it totally worth it,” Emma said in a sultry tone and winked.

 

The effect was immediately ruined by her trying to bend to pick up her cloak.  She had barely leaned forward when Killian heard her gasp and her hand flew to her side.  He immediately went to her side as she straightened, a flush on her face and fanning her hands in front of her face.

 

“Emma are you alright?”

 

“I’m fine.  Ruby insisted on real boning in this damn corset,” she growled as she adjusted her bodice, giving him quite the show. “Next year I’m dressing as Smee and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

 

Killian laughed, “I take no issue with that, love.  I do love you in stripes and spectacles.”

 

Emma snorted as she hit his chest in retaliation.  He caught her hand before she could pull it away and drew it behind his back.

 

“Careful there, Captain, you could lose a hand for mishandling precious treasure.”

 

“I fear I already have, love,” Killian grinned as he blindly slipped his hand into the fake hook that was lying next to his coat.  He dragged the dulled metal tip lightly across her chest, “I’d be willing to lose the other one for a night with you.”

 

“Would you now?” She asked tipping her head back as he traced the hook along the column of her neck. “Dammit, Killian, we don’t have time for this.”

 

“Shame, that is,” he whispered as he dipped his head to follow the path his hook had made with his lips.  He grinned against her skin as she sighed, bringing her hand to the back of his head, “Bloody shame.”

 

Emma tugged on his hair, sharp enough to grab his attention but not so much that it caused any real pain.

 

“Later,” she said emphatically, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.  She smiled as she wiped what he assumed was her lipstick off, “Come on Hook, your festivities are probably already underway.”

 

Killian grinned as he picked up Emma’s cloak, settling it on her shoulders before putting on his long black leather coat.  With a quick kiss he offered her his arm and escorted her out of his office and to the party.

 

Everything seemed to be in order once he and Emma made it down to the yacht where the party was being held.  It wasn’t as enormous as the one he had bought to impress Milah but it was still rather large and the star of his small fleet.  He quickly guided Emma to the bar leaving her to order for him as he sought out the mayor to ensure that everything was to her liking.  Once that was done he would have to check in with the catering staff every so often but otherwise the evening was his to enjoy.

 

The mayor was pleased with how everything had come together.  She complimented him on his effort in front of two court judges and the police commissioner before continuing by complimenting his costume.  He took it all in stride, the tips of his ears burning hotly under the praise before she finally allowed him to excuse himself.  As soon as his back was to her a giddy smile broke across his face and he practically felt like skipping back to where Emma was waiting for him.

 

Killian was barely paying attention to the guests as he made his way back to the bar.  As the coordinator of the entire event, much to the annoyance mayor’s aide she’d sent along early in the planning process, he knew it would be bad form to take advantage of the situation by consciously trying to make business connections with those in attendance.  The success of the party would have to suffice.  Instead he merely admired the costumes on display, making mental notes on the ones he wanted to show Emma.  Therefore when he reached the bar he was merely intrigued that someone else had shown up as a pirate.  The woman wearing it had her back to him and it took him a moment to realize exactly why the leather and silks costume seemed so familiar or why the person wearing it was infinitely more so.

 

“Killian, there you are!  I’d like to introduce you to Mrs. Gold, the governor’s wife!” Emma said excitedly, pulling him to her side.

 

His eyes snapped up to the face of the last person he expected to see not only at the party but anywhere that was remotely associated with him.  Milah was smiling gently at him, her blue eyes shining with mirth as he gaped at her like a fish.

 

“Call me Milah, dear, Mrs. Gold sounds so formal,” Milah practically purred. “Hullo, Killian.”

 

“Milah,” he said shortly, wrapping his arm around Emma’s waist as both an anchor and to show that he had moved on.

 

“Milah,” Emma breathed barely loud enough for him to hear.

 

“If you’ll excuse us, there are some things we need to attend to,” Killian gave Milah a perfunctory smile.  He pressed lightly on Emma’s side to get her to move with him, “After you, Swan.”

 

Emma went with him easily enough, only sending one curious glance back at where they had left Milah behind.  He resolutely kept his eyes forward as they moved silently through the crowd towards the bridge.  When they reached their destination he was grateful none of the guests had decided to take an impromptu tour or make use of the dark secluded area and allowed Emma to enter before following and closing the door behind him.

 

“So, that was Milah?”

 

He turned to face her, ready to give her any explanation she wished for and was surprised to find her looking at him with her hands on her hips and an amused smile on her face.

 

“Yes,” he said slowly.

 

“She’s pretty,” Emma commented dryly.  She rocked on her heels, causing her skirt to swing like a bell, “Did you two go as pirates for Halloween when you were together?”

 

“A couple of times, yes,” he dropped his gaze to the hook he was wearing on his left hand. “I’d already had the costume.  She’s the one who suggested dressing herself to match.”

 

“The governor’s wife?” She asked, her tone merely curious.

 

“I didn’t know she was married,” Killian said quietly.  He had told her that before but he felt he needed to remind her and himself, “He wasn’t the governor at the time, but he was in politics.  I discovered all I could about him after… well, after.”

 

“Huh,” Emma tilted her head to regard him, “Did you know she’d be here?  Is that why you’ve been stressing out so much about this party?”

 

“What?  No!” Killian practically shouted. “Did you not see my look of utter surprise down there?  I had no idea Gold was even in town, let alone that Milah was.  He’s been campaigning across the state for his reelection.”

 

“Still keeping tabs on him then?”

 

“I watch the news, Swan,” he said shortly, starting to get angry. “You also typed up the final guest list.  If I remember correctly Gold wasn’t on it.”

 

“Okay,” she said, holding her hands up in a placating gesture, “but you have been stressed.  If it wasn’t Milah being here then what was it?”

 

Killian felt his anger drain away completely.  He had tried to keep his worries about his finances and that the fate of his company was hanging in the balance to himself but it appeared that Emma was more perceptive than he realized.

 

“Despite appearances I’m not a wealthy man, Emma,” he ducked his head as he scratched nervously behind his ear. “When things between Milah and I imploded I hadn’t had the sense to realize that we weren’t meant to be.  I tried my damndest to try and win her sole affection by buying her ostentatious gifts and making over the top gestures.  All I received for my efforts were maxed out credit cards and nearly putting Roger and myself on the streets.  I very nearly lost my company as well.  It’s taken me a long time to set everything to rights.”

 

“And this party?” Emma said quietly, prompting him.

 

“This party-” Killian blew out a breath, “this party somehow, in my mind, became the symbol of my new beginnings.  A phoenix rising from the flames, as it were.  If I could do this and do it well then I hadn’t failed completely.  That I deserved everything I have now despite the complete cockup I’d made of my life.”

 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Emma asked, sounding hurt.

 

Killian looked up at her, “I didn’t want to burden you, love.  It was a mess from my past that you shouldn’t have had to deal with.”

 

She frowned at him.  He fought the instinct to drop his gaze again and was surprised when she moved forward quickly and draped her arms over his shoulder.

 

“You’re such an idiot sometimes,” she murmured in his ear. “I may not be the best at relationships but I’ve watched enough cheesy rom-coms to know that communication is everything.  I love being with you, whether it’s trying to figure out where to go on a date or arguing whose turn it is to try and give Roger a bath or even dealing with this ‘mess’ of yours.  Unless of course it involves getting rid of a body, I draw the line there.

 

“And for the record I’m not with you because I thought you were rich.  I would gladly live on the streets with you and Roger if it ever comes to that.  Which it won’t because you are not a failure and because I love you too much to let you live in anything less than the backseat of my bug.”

 

Chuckling he drew her closer to him, mindful of her voluminous skirts and unforgiving corset.  With a sigh he nuzzled into her shoulder pressing his lips the curve where her neck met her shoulder.  She shivered from his touch and he smiled.

 

The stayed entwined for several minutes.  Killian was amazed to realize that he felt immensely better.  The only damper on his lightened mood was the fact that Milah was most likely still in attendance.  He was more worried about what affect she’d have on Emma than on himself.

 

“We should rejoin the party, Swan,” he said as he pulled back. “I need to check that everything is still running smoothly.”

 

“There hasn’t been any yelling so I think you might be okay,” Emma said with a smile.

 

“And yet-”

 

“You need to make sure with your own pretty blue eyes.”

 

“Why, Swan, you think I’m pretty?” He asked with mock surprise.

 

“I think you’re a lot more than pretty, pirate,” she tugged him back to her and kissed him quickly and thoroughly.  When she broke away she mussed his hair with her hands, “There, perfect.”

 

“Staking your claim, love?” He asked amused and secretly thrilled that she was seemingly sending Milah a very pointed message.

 

“Of course,” Emma said as started walking towards the door. “I mean you have told me before that you’ve never been happier.  Might as well flaunt it.”

 

When they returned to the party Killian was relieved to see that things were progressing smoothly.  With an apology to Emma he excused himself to check on how things were running behind the scenes.  She let him go with a kiss brushed against his cheek and a gentle squeeze to his elbow.

 

His time in the galley put a pleased smile on his face, despite the alarming rate at which the wine was being consumed.  He had assurances from the caterer that they’d make it through the night without a single glass going dry but it would be a close thing.  As he made his way back to Emma his smile grew.  For all his worrying and stressing over the party it was going far smoother than he could have anticipated and he planned on celebrating accordingly.

 

The smile left his face completely when he turned a corner and found himself face to face with Milah.

 

“Hullo again.”

 

“We’ve already exchanged pleasantries, Mrs. Gold, excuse me if I prefer to leave it at that,” he said tersely.  When he went to step around her she blocked his path, “I’m not in the mood for games Milah.”

 

“I’m not sure what you mean, Killian,” she said innocently but he could see a gleam of playfulness in her eye.

 

“Surely, you must be joking.  You come to this party dressed up like that-” he waved his hand angrily at her, his temper rising fast, “-expecting what?  That we’d pick up where we left off?  That I’d become your dirty little secret, only willingly this time?  I’m no fool, Milah, so don’t treat me like one.”

 

Milah stepped back as the he’d slapped her.  Killian felt a small pang of regret at his harsh words but years of hurt he’d had no opportunity to voice to her outweighed his gentlemanly tendencies.  He was somewhat shocked that despite the years that had passed since he’d last seen her he still felt the agony and betrayal as if she had only just told him she was a married woman.  Forcing himself to take a deep breath he met her eyes again.  The gleam was gone but he could see that she was considering him in a different light.

 

“Emma seems nice,” she said finally.

 

“Jesus, Milah, seriously?  Leave her out of this,” he growled.

 

“Out of what, Killian?  You obviously don’t want to talk about us-”

 

“I don’t want to talk about anything with you, really,” he broke in. “I’m happy, I’m finally in a good place with my company, with my life.  Do you even realize what you did to me when you told me about your husband?  It took me years to drag myself back to some semblance of a normal life and then I met Emma.  She’s done more, been more, for me in these past months than you ever were in the years we were together.  You don’t get the luxury of talking about her with me.”

 

“You love her?” Milah asked, sounding taken aback.

 

“Of course I bloody love her,” Killian spat at her.  He took in a shaky breath, counting to ten slowly before he spoke, “If you’ll excuse me I need to return to the party.”

 

Milah stepped aside willingly.  He felt as if he were a taut bowstring and the slightest provocation would cause him to snap.  With a terse nod he walked past her.

 

“Killian?” She called after him softly.

 

He stopped but refused to turn around.

 

“For what it’s worth I’m glad you’re happy, that you have Emma.”

 

Unable to help himself he looked back at her.  Her entire demeanor had changed, she seemed smaller, more nervous as she fiddled with the frills on the end of her voluminous sleeves.  She looked up at him quickly before focusing back down at her hands.

 

“I’m sorry for what I did to you.  It wasn’t fair and it wasn’t right, but for what it’s worth I did love you.”

 

“Milah,” he said as both a warning and a plea.

 

“Don’t worry, I never intended to try to worm my way back into your life.  I didn’t even know whose yacht we were on until I saw you talking to the mayor,” she laughed humorlessly. Looking down at herself she ran her hands down her sides, “As for the costume?  Would you believe it’s the only thing I had ready on short notice?  We weren’t meant to be in town but Robert saw it as a good opportunity to try and sway any voters he could before the election.”

 

“I’m not voting for him,” Killian said, narrowing his eyes at her.

 

Milah’s eyes widened in surprise and then her laughter pealed down the corridor.  Killian’s lips twitched until he found himself grinning and chuckling along with her, his tension draining away at the absurdity of his statement in the moment.

 

“It was good to see you again,” she said softly, once they quieted.

 

“Yeah,” he said not quite in agreement but the only answer he could give.  He gave her a small smile, “Have a good life Milah.”

 

“You too Killian.”

 

He gave her another nod, one less fraught, and started back towards the party.  It wasn’t long before he joined the fray that Emma found him.

 

“Good talk?” Emma asked as she regarded him closely.

 

“How-”

 

“I saw her follow you when you left,” she said with a matter of fact shrug.

 

“And you didn’t follow her as well?” Killian asked amazed at her restraint.

 

“Of course I did,” she rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around the small of his back.  She turned her face up to his, “I didn’t stick around though.”

 

“So you mean to tell me that you weren’t burning with curiosity as to what could be said?” He tilted his head as he questioned her.

 

“I was, I am-” she tilted her head to mirror him, “-but I also know that I don’t need you to tell me every single detail of your life before I showed up.  I’m happy to know what you feel is important enough to share with me.  If your conversation with her is one of those things then I’ll listen but if not I won’t hold it against you.”

 

“You’re a marvel Swan,” he said quietly, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

“I know,” she said liltingly, pulling his hips into hers. “Now can we finally enjoy some of this party?  I got all dressed up for it and everything.  Plus you promised.”

 

“That I did,” Killian said with a hearty grin and a flirty wink.  He stepped back and immediately offered her his arm, “My lady.”

 

“Good sir,” she said, giggling as she dipped into a wobbly curtsy.

 

“You’ll need to work on that for next year, Swan,” he teased, leading her to the dance floor.

 

“Next year we’re going to whatever party your company hosts as something else.”

 

“Captain Hook not to your liking, love?” He twisted the hook in her hand as she tried to hold onto it as they joined the others swirling about the open space.

 

“This particular Hook is-” she said pinching his side in retaliation, “-but I’m thinking a different pirate might be more your style.”

 

“And, who pray tell, is that?”

 

“Why the Dread Pirate Roberts, of course,” she said matter of factly.

 

He spun her out from him and pulled her back, dipping his head to hers, “Which would obviously make you my Buttercup, would it not?”

 

“Damn right,” she said softly.

 

“Well then, as you wish, love.  As you wish.”


	7. Thanksgiving

Killian rolled over in bed and was shocked but not entirely surprised to find that the body he’d draped his arm over was much hairier than he’d expected.  Roger rewarded the late night affection with a lick to his face.  Grimacing and wide awake he rolled to his other side and saw that it was a little after two in the morning.  With a groan he heaved himself out of bed and headed to the dining room where he knew Emma would be either pouring over cookbooks or watching cooking videos on YouTube.

 

As predicted Emma was hunched over her laptop, her back to him.  He shook his head at her sudden propensity for over planning but couldn’t help the smile that crept up.  Yawning he walked over and placed a kiss to the top of her head.  He was rewarded with an elbow to his stomach.

 

“Oh, shit, Killian!” Emma yelped as she ripped her headphones from her ears. “I’m so sorry!”

 

“S’alright, Swan,” he moaned, bending over to clutch at his middle.

 

Roger, who had followed him from the bedroom, resumed licking his face as she probably mistook his attempts to catch his breath for playfulness.  For the next several minutes it was a confusing wrestling match as both Emma and Killian tried to push Roger away.  She danced around them, her tail whapping him intermittently in the face while Emma apologized profusely.  All the while Killian couldn’t catch his breath from laughing too hard.

 

Finally Emma pulled Roger away as he collapsed on the floor in a breathless heap.

 

“God, Killian, I’m sorry.  Are you alright?” Emma asked frantically as she dropped down beside him, hand wrapped firmly around Roger’s collar.

 

“I’ll be fine, love,” he wheezed, patting her knee in reassurance. “So what flavorful concoction has you up tonight?  You’ll need to decide on a final menu soon, we are going shopping for ingredients tomorrow.”

 

He wasn’t particularly looking forward to battling the crowds.  This was the first time he would be celebrating Thanksgiving with more than just Will for company and eating something other than Chinese food.  Emma had told him her traditions had been similar until she’d met Mary Margaret and David.  He’d expected to be invited to their table, at the very least, perhaps asked to provide a side dish or bottle of wine at most.  Therefore he had been taken completely by surprise when Emma had insisted that they play host and that they invite nearly everyone they knew.

 

She had brought it up to him in passing a week or so after Halloween.  He had still been riding the high of the success of the mayor’s party at the time and had been open to the suggestion.  Then he had slowly come to realize Emma had been serious.  Cookbooks, recipe cards, boxes of matching plates, napkins, and silverware had all arrived from Amazon over the weeks leading up to Thanksgiving.  Plus he had several texts from Mary Margaret asking how many people they were expecting and even some from David offering to bring extra chairs.  Killian felt very much like he missed a conversation or two with Emma where he had agreed to the madness.

 

Despite all that and his trepidation at all that was involved he didn’t want to disappoint Emma.  He could tell she was excited and that was what mattered most.

 

“I’m not really- I mean, I was just looking,” Emma said avoiding his gaze as she buried her face in Roger’s fur.

 

Bemused Killian lifted his head to look at her computer.  She hadn’t paused the video when she accidentally attacked him and he could see a pair of hands delicately twisting strips of pie crust into intricate designs atop what looked to be like an apple pie.  He snorted in amusement and then grunted as Emma poked him in the side.

 

“Easy there, Swan.  A man can only take so many jabs to his person before he begins to wonder if he’s turned into a punching bag,” he said as he sat up.  Pushing Roger gently out of the way he peered at Emma closely, “Now, is there a reason you’re watching videos about pies?  I believe Mary Margaret is making no less than four of them to bring over, even an apple one per Regina’s request.”

 

“I know,” she huffed, picking at a hole in the knee of her sleep pants. “I was just thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to have one or two more?  There’s so many people coming.”

 

Killian sighed.  It had been her excuse every night for the past week when he’d sought her out after waking alone in their bed.  She hadn’t taken on a new case at work and he knew it was so she could spend all her time planning and preparing for the day.  The final guest tally was at eight, ten including them, and while everyone invited had all been at their apartment for a meal before this would be the first time they would all be there at once.  He was beginning to wonder if perhaps he should be more concerned about what their hosting duties should entail.

 

“If you feel that we need to make some pies then I won’t argue with you but Mary Margaret knows how many people are attending and she’s an old hand at feeding a crowd.  Regina said she’d bring the wine, Ruby and Mulan are providing the green bean casserole-” he shuddered in exaggerated distaste and was happy to see Emma begin to relax, “- and Will promised to keep his mouth shut for at least ten minutes.  That alone should make for a wonderful gathering.”

 

Emma laughed and Killian grinned.  She shook her head at him as she heaved herself off the floor and walked over to the table.  He watched quietly as she went about closing all the programs she had open on her computer and shut it down.  When it was done she turned around and offered his her hand which he took eagerly.

 

“Fine, no pies,” she grunted as she helped him off the floor. “I still want to try that dinner roll recipe I found.”

 

“Alright, love,” he said squeezing her hand. “As long as you’ll still allow me to buy some premade ones as backup.”

 

“Sure, we can always use them to shut Will up if we need to,” she said with a sly smile.

 

“Always thinking ahead,” he said shaking his head.  He pulled her close and ducked his head to murmur in her ear, “Shall we go to bed?”

 

“Yeah, we need to get up early to beat the crowds,” she whispered back.

 

Killian groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder, “Not quite what I had in mind, love.”

 

“I know,” she said softly.  Then she reached down and squeezed his ass, “Which means you need to work fast.”

 

“I’ll take that as a challenge, Swan,” he growled, nipping at her neck.

 

Without warning he dipped down and heaved her over his shoulder.  As he made his way to the bedroom, Emma giggling madly and Roger bouncing at his heels, all thoughts of Thanksgiving dinner vacated his mind.

 

Killian hated crowds, almost as much as he hated grocery shopping.  Despite Emma’s urging the night before they’d had a late start, not leaving the apartment until almost noon.  As a result they were stuck navigating the aisles of the market with what felt like half the population of Boston along with a quarter of the crying babies in the city as well.  He knew most of the irritation he was feeling was due to the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything since his bagel at breakfast but he still couldn’t help gripping the handle of the shopping cart with extra force when it was once again jostled by an inattentive housewife.

 

“-here and I’ll get the herbs,” Emma said, pulling his thoughts away from ‘accidentally’ ramming his cart into the one that had just cut him off.

 

“What?”

 

Emma rolled her eyes at him, “Just wait here.”

 

With that she slipped neatly through the crowd, unencumbered by a cart as he was.  Unfortunately he had come to a stop right in front of a display of ingredients for stuffing.  After the fifth person leaned over his cart to grab several boxes of cornbread mix he’d had enough.  He couldn’t see Emma but figured the store wasn’t that big and slowly made his way to an aisle that looked relatively clear.  Apparently soaps and lotions weren’t all that in demand for the holiday.

 

He wasn’t the only one with the same idea as he exchanged weary looks of commiseration with the few other shoppers loitering down the aisle.  Figuring he could at least get some work done he pulled out his phone and started going through emails.  Christmas and New Year’s Eve were still over a month away but the hosts of the parties that had been booked were already sending him their requests.  With Jamie on vacation for the week he had to sift through the nonsensical demands to get to the feasible ones on his own.  Reading through them didn’t help settle his irritation.

 

“There you are!”

 

Killian looked up from a particularly vexing email to see Emma staggering towards him.  Her arms were full of various items from their list and more.  She dumped them into the cart with a sigh of relief and glared at him.

 

“You have a phone, Swan, you could have texted me to discern my whereabouts,” he said, rolling his eyes as he went back to the email.

 

“Maybe if I had a third arm,” she said, clearly annoyed with him. “I told you to wait there.”

 

He glanced up at her frowning, “And I would have if I hadn’t been standing in the way of every Tom, Dick and Harriet that wanted some damn cornbread.  Did you get everything we need?”

 

“No, I still need to get the vegetables and we need to pick a turkey,” Emma snapped.

 

“I’d personally prefer one that’s been killed and plucked for me but I don’t want to be too particular where the bird is concerned,” he said sardonically.

 

“Seriously?” Emma hissed, anger sparking in her eyes. “You know what?  I don’t have time for this, Killian, just go wait in the car.”

 

“What?” He asked, startled.

 

“You’re obviously in a shitty mood and don’t want to be here.  I can get the rest of the stuff on my own since you don’t care either way.”

 

“Wait, Emma, I didn’t mean-”

 

“And I don’t care right now,” she said resignedly as she pushed the cart out from under his unresisting hands. “I’ll see you in a half hour or so.”

 

Killian called after her but she ignored him as she turned the corner at the end of the aisle.  Ignoring the curious stares of the people who had witnessed their little spat he spun on his heel and stalked out of the store.  He barely made it twenty feet from the door before he realized he’d been a bit of an idiot and a jerk to boot.  Taking a fortifying breath he turned right back around and waded back through the crowd, making a slight detour before heading towards the produce department.

 

He found Emma standing in front of the potatoes, her hand curled protectively around the edge of the cart as she used the other to pick through the tubers.  Without a word he came up to her side and handed her half of the sandwich he had bought at the deli counter.  She looked up at him with her eyes narrowed before taking a bite.

 

“I’m sorry for being a prat, Swan,” he said, infusing as much sincerity into the words as he could before taking a rather large bite from his half of the sandwich.  He was exceedingly hungry after all.

 

“I’m sorry too,” she sighed, wiping at the corner of his mouth with her thumb.  She licked at the dab of mustard she’d wiped off, “I didn’t think it’d be this bad and we left way later than I wanted to.”

 

“How were we supposed to know?  This being our first attempt at Thanksgiving and all.  Although why Mary Margaret didn’t see fit to warn us is beyond me,” Killian mused as he took another bite and glanced exaggeratedly at the sea of people around them.

 

“She did,” Emma said sheepishly, sounding almost like she was asking a question. “I just didn’t believe her.”

 

“Oh, really Swan?  How dare you lure me here unknowing of what trials awaited me,” he teased with a wink.

 

“Please, this isn’t nearly as bad as that Sox game you made me go to when the Yankees were in town,” she shuddered dramatically. “I didn’t think I’d live to see the seventh inning stretch.”

 

“You were the one who chose to wear the colors of the enemy in the midst of a sea of red, love.  I did warn you where our seats were and who had gifted them to us,” Killian reminded her.

 

She stuck out her tongue at him and he retaliated with a gentle hip bump.  They finished their impromptu lunch quietly as people shuffled around and often times in between them but Killian knew all had been forgiven.  When Emma grabbed several potatoes without thoroughly inspecting them he realized she also wanted to be out of there as much as he did.

 

“Shall we divide up the rest of the list, love?  I’ll tackle the vegetables while you choose the bird?” He held his hand out for the paper she’d been consulting down every aisle and watched bemused as she crumpled it in her fist.

 

“We just need to get the turkey,” she said sheepishly. “I may have gone all Supermarket Sweep after I left you.”

 

“Supermarket Sweep?” He asked confused.

 

“It’s a show where people run through- you know what?  Nevermind, I’ll explain later.  We really need to get that turkey and get out of here,” Emma stepped behind the cart, squaring her shoulders as though she was about to wade into battle.

 

“Right, what exactly are we looking for?” Killian asked as he followed closely on the path she was making.

 

“Well, everything I read said to have at least one and half to two pounds for every person attending.  So we’ll need at least a twenty-two pound bird,” Emma said over her shoulder.

 

“Then we should merely look for a twenty pound one, Swan,” he said, almost stopping in his tracks but quickly thought better of it.

 

“We, uh, should get a bigger one for leftovers.”

 

He thought he heard her hesitate, as though she were choosing her words carefully but couldn’t for the life of him figure out why she would need to do that.  Shrugging his shoulders despite the fact that she couldn’t see him he followed along and hoped that they would quickly find what they were looking for so they could spend an eternity in line before finally escaping.

 

Over the next twenty-four hours he realized despite everything he’d seen from Emma so far it had been nothing compared to the figure of stress she devolved into once they arrived home from the market.  She had him cleaning areas of the apartment he was sure their guests would never set eyes on while she prepped what dishes she could ahead of time.  He did it with mild complaint seeing that even if he wasn’t entirely hopeless in the kitchen Emma clearly wanted to keep everything under her control until his help was absolutely needed.  Even poor Roger became caught up in the madness when Emma informed him that she’d made a grooming appointment for her.  Killian was somewhat relieved to take Roger to it, as it gave him a much needed respite from the maelstrom that was Emma Swan in preparation mode.

 

The next morning dawned clear and bright and from the moment Killian returned from his run with Roger he was once again recruited to assist Emma.  He peeled potatoes, crushed herbs, measured an unending amount of ingredients, stirred dozens of concoctions, and occasionally had to remind Emma to breath.  It was only when they had less than an hour before their guests were to arrive that she seemed to notice he was still in his running clothes.  Without ceremony she shoved him out of the kitchen and warned him to dress nice, ignoring him when he joked that his birthday suit would do nicely.  Chuckling to himself he called Roger to follow him, he saw no need for the poor girl to be scolded should she get underfoot in his absence.

 

Emerging from the bedroom showered and fully dressed despite his teasing he found Roger lying with her head on her paws at the unseen border between the hallway and the rest of the apartment.  He knelt down to ruffle the fur at the top of her head and saw exactly why she hadn’t ventured further.

 

All the chairs from the kitchen table were lined up against the back of the couch along with the ones that belonged to Emma they had pulled out of storage earlier in the week.  Emma herself was standing at one end of the table, her hands planted on the surface, as she scowled down the length of it.  Then without warning she pushed away from it and disappeared into the kitchen muttering to herself.

 

“Swan?” He called out, still crouched low beside Roger.

 

“Oh, Killian, good,” she popped her head out of the kitchen and looked around confused before catching sight of him. “What are you doing down there?  I need you to do that thing with the table or else we won’t fit everyone.”

 

“Consider it done, love, but I have a request of my own,” he said as he stood and before she could disappear into the kitchen again.

 

“What?” She huffed impatiently, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

 

He smiled gently, “Our guests will be here in just a few minutes, if they’re on time at all.  All I ask is that you take a seat, relax a bit before they get here.  Possibly take those rolly things out of your hair.”

 

Emma’s hand floated to her head where there were giant rollers doing their magic to her neatly pinned up locks.  She looked at him in horror before rushing past him to their bedroom.

 

“Forget the table just make sure nothing burns!” She yelled at him, causing him to shake his head at Roger.

 

When she emerged ten minutes later he had not only expanded the table but arranged the chairs and kept everything from becoming even remotely scorched.  She thanked him profusely, pressing a kiss to his cheek that was sure to leave a mark from her freshly applied lipstick.  He found he didn’t mind as a knock sounded at the door and she turned to him with wide, nervous eyes.

 

“Showtime, Swan.”

 

With that they were off.  Mary Margaret and David arrived first carrying pies and chairs respectively.  Soon after Will and his girlfriend Belle were at their doorstep, followed closely by Regina and Robin.  Ruby and Mulan came last, apologizing profusely and shoving a casserole dish into his arms as they entered the apartment to greet everyone else.

 

Without fanfare they fell into the same pattern that occurred whenever they got together as a group.  The women stayed close to the kitchen, helping Emma with the cooking and glaring at any of the men that wandered in and interrupted their conversation.  David and Robin quickly took over his television arguing over whether to watch the American football game or a replay of a Premier League match that Robin had noticed as David had been scanning through the channels.

 

Killian stayed out of it as he struck up a conversation with Will and Belle.  It was the first time Will had been invited to a gathering with all of Emma’s friends at once and the first time he’d brought Belle along to any kind of gathering at all.  While he’d met her before Killian hadn’t had the chance to have a full conversation with her.  She was a foreigner, from Australia rather than England like Will, Robin, and himself, but she’d lived in the States for far longer than any of them.  That along with her job at the Boston Public Library meant she was a wellspring of information about the holiday and easily ruffled by his and Will’s teasing her with feigned ignorance.

 

Twenty minutes before the food was ready Killian decided to take Roger for a short walk.  Once the food was served and the alcohol really started flowing he was certain that she’d be unintentionally neglected.  As he pulled on his coat Mary Margaret appeared at his side.

 

“Killian, I just wanted to say how nice it is that you’ve been so understanding,” she said with a smile.

 

“Understanding?” He asked confused. “It was Emma’s idea to play host.  I’ve just tried to help out where I could and stepped out of the way when I couldn’t.”

 

“Oh, I didn’t mean-” Mary Margaret suddenly looked uncomfortable. “She didn’t tell you did she?”

 

“Tell me what?” He tried to give her an encouraging smile but he suddenly felt nauseous.

 

“That she invited Neal, um,  _ that _ Neal-” Mary Margaret winced, “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

 

“No, no, I’m glad you did,” Killian said through numb lips.  He grabbed Roger’s leash and she immediately bounded over, “If you’ll excuse me, love, I need to take Roger out to do some business.”

 

Mary Margaret let him go but he suspected she’d immediately tell Emma what she’d done.  He found he didn’t mind, he wasn’t even truly mad.  Stepping into the weak November sunlight he realized he was more upset that Emma felt that she hadn’t needed to tell him at all.  Not to warn him or ask how he would feel about it or even mention that she had run into the man at all, nothing.

 

He and Roger had only walked half a block before he heard the sound of someone running after him.  With a bolstering breath he stopped and turned to watch Emma approach.  Despite his feelings on the matter at hand he couldn’t help but be concerned about how she’d come after him without grabbing a coat first.

 

“Killian, I’m sorry,” she said as soon as she reached him. “I meant to tell you.”

 

“That you were talking to the man that you said ruined your life or that you invited him to our home without mentioning it to me at any point,” Killian said resigned.

 

“It’s not like that,” Emma reached for him but he stepped back. “You don’t need to be jealous.”

 

“I’m not jealous, Emma,” he ground out, the accusation angering him more than her deception. “I’m- I’m upset.  Disappointed that you felt you had to hide whatever is going on.  I trust you Emma, I do, but it feels like you’re the one that doesn’t trust me and I don’t- I don’t know.”

 

He trailed off, truly not knowing what else to say.  There was no doubt in his mind that no matter what was going on with Emma and Neal that she hadn’t cheated or wronged him in any way.  She hadn’t lied but she hadn’t seen fit to tell him anything either.  He wondered if she had been planning to tell him anything at all or if he would have opened their door to find a stranger who had more of a past with his love than he did.

 

Emma hadn’t told him everything that had happened between her and Neal at first.  She would make offhanded comments about good for nothing exes or jaded quips about being left behind.  As weeks and months passed and they grew closer together he’d found out more of the story in bits and pieces: the running, the hiding, her self proclaimed naive but utter devotion to the first man she’d ever loved.  It was only after she’d moved in with him, late one night, that she’d told him the rest.  She hadn’t cried but it had been a near thing as she whispered to him how Neal had set her up over stolen watches and she’d spent a year in jail for his crime.  Killian had lain awake holding her long after she had fallen asleep, promising himself that he’d never hurt her so deeply.

 

That, he realized, was why he didn’t know what to say or how to feel.  He didn’t understand how she could forgive and forget so easily.

 

“Nothing is going on,” Emma said emphatically.  She reached for him again and he let her grasp his arm in a vice like grip, “I haven’t been talking to him, not really.  I ran into him when I went to New York for that case.”

 

“The one after Halloween?”

 

“Yeah, I was still kinda dealing with the whole meeting Milah thing and I went to get a drink at a bar I used to go to when I lived there.  I literally ran into him, almost spilled my drink over him-” Emma squeezed his arm a fraction more, “-and his wife.  They were there celebrating their anniversary but they live here, in Boston.”

 

She let him absorb that information before continuing, “I wanted to punch him in the face and I really, really wanted you to be there with me.  They invited me to their table and I just couldn’t say no.  I was curious, how he’d been since I’d last seen him, if he felt bad at all about what he did to me, everything I guess.  He was just so goddamn happy, grinning and flaunting his oh so great life and I just invited them to come over for Thanksgiving.  I don’t know why I did it or what the hell I was thinking.”

 

“That’s why you wanted us to play host, why you’ve been so focused on this,” Killian breathed in understanding.  He looked up at the grey sky before looking back at her, “You wanted to prove to him that you had moved on too.”

 

“I want him to see that he didn’t break me,” she said in a small voice, tears gathering in her eyes.

 

“Oh, Emma.”

 

Killian gathered her in his arms.  She was shaking but he wasn’t sure if it was more from her silent crying or the fact that it was only fifty degrees out and she was wearing a filmy cream top and a knee length skirt that could hardly be keeping her warm.  Letting her go for only a moment he unzipped his jacket and guided her arms around his waist underneath it, holding it closed around them both.

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma whispered into his collarbone.

 

“I just wish you had told me sooner,” he sighed into her hair.  She smelled like a mixture of her shampoo and the herbs they’d used to season the turkey, “How did you expect me to act like the perfect boyfriend without advanced warning?”

 

“You don’t need to act like one-” she said as she looked up at him, her nose nudging his chin, “-you’re pretty perfect already.”

 

“Don’t try to flatter me into agreeing to go along with your ludicrous plan to try and one up your ex,” he said sternly only to grin as she pouted up at him. “I would have done it because you did it for me with Milah and because I love you.”

 

“I love you too and I really am sorry I didn’t talk to you about it.  I’m also sorry I went a little crazy with the whole hosting Thanksgiving thing.”

 

“You’re forgiven, love, and while I’m sure Mary Margaret is conducting things admirably in our absence we should probably head back seeing as we are the hosts.  I believe Roger’s had enough of being out here in the cold as much as we are.”

 

Killian gave Emma a smile that she easily reciprocated.  He stepped back from her and quickly shed his jacket, draping it over her shoulders.  She hummed in appreciation and held her hand out to him.  Gladly taking it he let her lead them back to the apartment where their friends, and their food, were waiting.

 

The meal was a complete success.  Everyone praised their efforts and he could see a pleased flush warming Emma’s cheeks.  Killian waved off the compliments, insisting that it was all Emma’s doing and stating that he had severely underestimated Mary Margaret’s prowess as a consummate hostess time and again.  Both women smiled widely at him, Emma giving him a kiss on the cheek as she stood to grab another bottle of wine.

 

By the time the dirty plates and serving platters had been cleared Killian had almost convinced himself that Neal wouldn’t appear at all.  He was elbow deep in dishwater when he heard a knock at their door.  Emma had frozen upon hearing it, nearly dropping the glass Will had handed her after he’d dried it.  She looked at him with wide apologetic eyes.

 

“Go on and get it, love.  They’re here just in time for pie,” he said giving her an encouraging nod.

 

“From the look on your face I’m bettin’ it’s not bloody carolers at the door,” Will said once Emma left the kitchen.

 

“Not exactly,” Killian said begrudgingly as he focused back on washing dishes pretending that he wasn’t straining to hear every word coming from the entrance hall.

 

“Well, who is it then?”

 

Killian looked quickly to the doorway, making sure they were alone before abandoning the dishes altogether.  Will had been there when he’d been nearly destroyed by Milah, both emotionally and financially, and there was no one he trusted more to have his back.  Even when it meant Will’s tendency to speak before he thought better of his words had lead to more fistfights than understandings.

 

“Emma’s ex and his wife,” Killian said in a low tone. “She saw them in New York and invited them over.  It’s the whole bloody reason she said we’d host apparently.”

 

“Is she mental?  Are you?” Will burst out.

 

“Quiet you idiot,” Killian hissed, earning himself a glare. “We’ve talked about it and I understand why she did it.”

 

“But you’re not happy about it,” Will said through narrowed eyes.

 

“Of course I’m not but Emma helped me more than she knows when we saw Milah.  The least I could do is return the favor.”

 

“I admire your altruistic tendency here but, bloody hell mate, this can’t go over well!  Did anyone else know he’d be here?”

 

“Mary Margaret-” Killian quickly grabbed a towel to dry his hands, suddenly needing to be by Emma’s side. “I’m sure David knows as well, his wife can’t keep a secret.  As for the others if they didn’t know he’d be here they do know his name, I can guarantee you that.”

 

“Bloody hell,” Will repeated.

 

Killian tossed the towel back at Will and walked as calmly as he could out to where he could hear a quiet murmur of voices.  Everyone was gathered by the table again, Mary Margaret’s pies lined up down the center, but their focus was on the couple that had entered their midst.  He hadn’t known what to expect but he was caught by surprise to see a somewhat unremarkable man smiling nervously as he was introduced to Emma’s friends.

 

Neal was older, and shorter, than Killian had been picturing.  His brown hair was liberally speckled with grey as was the goatee he was sporting.  Underneath his nerves Neal had the look of someone who had lived a hard life and had only recently found redemption.  Killian suspected it had a lot to do with the smiling woman at his side.

 

“Killian!” Emma called to him, her voice slightly higher pitched in what he recognized as close to panicking. “I’d like you to meet Neal and his wife Tamara.”

 

He strode over, reminding himself that it wasn’t a pissing contest.  Emma was with him, Neal was married, but just like Emma staking her claim when she had met Milah he found himself squeezing the other man’s hand more force than necessary as they shook.  Neal, for his part, didn’t wince or try to crush Killian’s hand in return and Killian begrudgingly admired him for that.

 

With a touch more good will he greeted Tamara.  She smiled at him warmly and complimented him on his home and thanked him for inviting them.  Her dark cheeks were flushed from the cold and he realized they were still wearing their coats.

 

“Where are my manners?  I’ll take your coats, we were just about to have some of Mary Margaret’s delicious pies,” he smiled at Neal and Tamara and then at Emma who smiled tremulously back. “That is, if you’d like to stay.”

 

“That would be wonderful,” Tamara said as she unwrapped the scarf around her throat. “It’s our first Thanksgiving since we got married and we’ve just been hopping around between different friend’s parties.  I will say that these pies look way better than any of the others we’ve seen today.”

 

“Oh, thank you,” Mary Margaret said with surprise.  She had been staring at Neal who had been removing his own coat, “I, uh, hope you don’t have any allergies, Killian’s one for walnuts has changed the way all of us cook.”

 

“Hey,” he said with mock offense, “I’ll have you know that I’ve rarely touched an apple since I’ve met you and your husband.  At least my aversion is for a legitimate medical reason.”

 

“No allergies here,” Tamara assured them handing Killian her and Neal’s coats.

 

“Excellent-” he nodded to the table, “-have a seat everyone.  I’ll be back in a mo’.”

 

Gentle chatter broke out behind him as he walked to the bedroom to stow the coats.  He liked Tamara well enough but he was still unsure about Neal.  The man hadn’t said more than two words once Killian had left the kitchen.

 

“Please tell me it’s not as awkward as I think it is.”

 

Killian jumped slightly at hearing Emma’s voice behind him.  He turned to look at her and saw her fiddling nervously with the hem of her blouse.

 

“You’ve invited the man who sent you to jail and broke your heart to meet all your friends who know at least some part of the story, if not all, and the man you’re currently shacked up with.  If it wasn’t awkward in some regard I’d be suspicious,” he said lightly as he tossed the coats onto the bed.

 

“God, this was a mistake,” Emma sighed.

 

“Perhaps-” he shrugged, “-but I think it’s also something you felt you needed to do.  Either way I’m by your side, love.”

 

To prove his point he approached her and bent to give her a light kiss.  Deepening it she hummed appreciatively as he tangled their hands together.

 

“Good,” she said a bit breathlessly when they broke apart.

 

“We need to get back out there.  Will might not be able to hold his tongue for very long.”

 

“Yeah, well I put my money on Regina saying something first.”

 

“Care to wager on that?” He asked, lifting his brow in challenge.

 

“Absolutely,” Emma grinned. “Loser does the rest of the dishes, no help.”

 

“You’re on, Swan,” he agreed, sealing their bet with a kiss. “Shall we?”

 

When they rejoined everyone the tension in the room was tangible.  David, Regina and Will were glaring openly at Neal.  Everyone else was obviously trying very hard to keep a civil conversation going.  A collective sigh of relief went through everyone when he and Emma sat at the table.

 

“So, Neal, what’s your line of work?” Killian said genially, earning a smile of approval from Emma.

 

“I, er, work at my father’s antiques store,” Neal shot a look at Emma, “He’s getting ready to retire and I’ll be taking over for him.”

 

“You made up?” Emma blurted out and then flushed bright red.

 

“Uh, yeah, about two years ago I came back to Boston.  I met Tamara-” Neal squeezed his wife’s hand, “-and she eventually convinced me to talk to him.  It was a lot of fighting at first but we’ve come around.”

 

“That’s great, Neal,” Emma said sincerely.  She looked at Tamara, “You’re a better influence on him than I was.”

 

“A much better one than he was for you, Emma,” David growled.

 

Killian choked on the piece of pumpkin pie he had just attempted to swallow.  He wasn’t the only one caught off guard by David’s remark: Ruby snorted indelicately into her wine, Mary Margaret’s fork scraped noisily against the plate, and Regina broke into a coughing fit that had Robin thumping her soundly on the back.  Emma’s face was pale but not as pale as Neal’s.

 

“Look, man, I was young and stupid.  I never meant to hurt her,” Neal said sincerely, keeping his gaze steadily on David.

 

Killian was watching Emma closely.  She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them she immediately looked at him.  He gave her a bolstering smile and nod, as he couldn’t take her hand in support from the other side of the long table.

 

“But you did,” David said bluntly.

 

“David!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

 

“That’s enough, David, it’s in the past,” Emma said tightly at the same time.  She looked at Killian as she continued, “We both made mistakes but we’ve moved on, we’re better people now.”

 

David had the decency to look contrite as an uneasy silence fell over the table.

 

“Now that that’s out of the way can you bloody Americans please tell me why Belle is insisting we get up at the bloody crack of dawn for a tv tomorrow?”

 

Will’s question broke through the tension like a hammer through a sheet of ice as the table erupted in laughter.  Killian shot him a look of gratitude which was received with a knowing nod.

 

After that the conversation flowed somewhat easily.  Yet it was clear that while Tamara was enjoying herself neither Neal nor Emma had truly relaxed and it was with great relief when the married couple left after their pieces of pie were finished.  Not long after the rest of guests departed, reluctant to leave them with the cleanup but full and assuring them they’d had an enjoyable time.  Then it was just him, Emma and Roger left and he sighed in relief that it was over.

 

“So who’s doing the dishes?  David was an unexpected dark horse,” Emma said wryly as she wrapped her arms around him from behind.

 

“Looks as if we’re both losers in this one, love,” Killian said patting her hands where they were linked at his waist. “I’ll wash, you dry?”

 

“Deal.”

 

Cleanup went smoothly and quietly.  He knew he was reflecting on all that had happened and figured Emma was too.  They moved seamlessly through their kitchen, putting away the dried dishes, placing leftovers in various containers and then packing them into their over stuffed fridge.  At the end of it they collapsed exhausted on their couch, Roger curled up on the floor below.

 

“If we do this next year, Swan, we’ll need to buy a bigger fridge,” he said tiredly.

 

“I’m hoping we’ll be in a bigger place by then too,” she responded.

 

“Adding a large dining room to the list then, love?” He asked as he squeezed her shoulder.

 

“That and a big ass kitchen.  I don’t want to be elbowing you every five seconds while trying to chop vegetables.”

 

“Neal’s visit went better than expected,” he said casually.

 

“No one killed him if that’s what you mean,” she responded dryly. “But, yeah, it went okay.”   
  


“Are you alright?” Killian twisted himself to look at her and found that she seemed tired but untroubled.

 

“I’m okay.  It wasn’t as horrible as I’d built it up to be in my head.  Awkward for sure but not terrible,” she looked up at him and smiled. “Thank you for not being mad and for not breaking his nose.”

 

“I’ll admit that I’ve wanted to do exactly that since I realized that someone had hurt you deeply.  But I’m glad you seemed to have gotten the same closure I did with Milah.”

 

“I think I did,” Emma said wonderingly.  She gave him a brilliant smile, “Come on, let’s go to bed.  I feel like I could sleep for a week.”

 

“I’ll be right by your side for it, love,” he said as he stood and pulled her up with him. “Although, we might have to get up to beat Will to that television.”

 

“Ugh, don’t even joke about that,” she said, hitting him lightly on the chest. “Come on, time to sleep and then more sleep.”

 

“Surely we can pencil in something a bit more exciting in the middle there,” he said waggling his eyebrows.

 

“As soon as I don’t feel like I’m going to throw up or roll off the bed you bet your ass we can,” she said with a wide smile.  As they passed the table with it’s multitude of chairs she paused, “Ugh, we’ll need to find time to take those back to storage.”

 

“I can do it this weekend with Will,” he assured her, steering her towards their bedroom. “You deserve a few days off from any responsibility after today.”

 

“I won’t argue with that.”

 

Killian smiled to himself as she broke away from him to enter their bathroom.  There was something he needed to get from the storage unit and it wouldn’t do to have Emma there while he searched for it.  His mother’s ring was well buried but he knew it was finally time to pull it out from its dusty confines.


	8. Christmas Again

Emma couldn’t believe that she was at Starbucks when by every rights she should be at home curled up with Killian and Roger, drinking her own expensive hot chocolate, and wasting her time staring at her beautiful tree before heading to Mary Margaret and David’s.  She had even specifically bought a mug with a cheesy Christmas pun on it to drink said hot chocolate and it was left sitting neglected on the counter while she waited for a cardboard cup of disappointment.  Despite her annoyance she couldn’t help but smile at how much had changed since the last Christmas she’d spent in the store’s lobby.  In her wildest fantasies she would have never dreamed she’d be living the kind of life she’d coveted since she was little.

 

Of course, Killian had put a damper on her similar musings earlier that morning when he had practically shoved her into the shower after breakfast.  He would only tell her that she shouldn’t break the tradition of going to Starbucks on Christmas, no matter how handsome the temptation.  She had cursed him under her breath the entire time she had gotten ready and almost refused to kiss him goodbye.  His over exaggerated pout and the very real flash of hurt she’d seen in his eyes had changed her mind.

 

As she waited for her drink she realized that she found it annoyingly cute that Killian had been so insistent.  Not because he wanted her to continue doing her somewhat depressing tradition but because he had been not so subtly trying to get her out of the apartment.  She thought she knew exactly why he didn’t want her there and it was the reason why she hadn’t fought him too hard on sending her away.  It wasn’t every day that she would be proposed to.

 

She had found the ring on accident.  They had been decorating and she had gone into his toolbox to find more nails.  It hadn’t been in a box, the small easy to distinguish ones from every commercial and movie, but in a small velvet pouch.  She had been curious why Killian had such a thing mixed in with wrenches, screwdrivers, and various nails and screws.  The delicate band of gold that tipped out into her hand was unexpected to say the least.

 

At first Emma had been shocked into a near panic.  As quickly as she could, while still being careful, she had dumped the ring back into its bag, thrown it in the toolbox, and shoved the whole thing back into its place in the hall closet.  She had mumbled a half sane excuse to Killian as she had dashed out the door and into the snowy morning.  After an hour of walking around their neighborhood she’d felt that she’d calmed down enough to face Killian without giving away what she’d found.  The fact that she had returned to the apartment with numb fingers and toes had sufficiently distracted both of them at the time.

 

It was nearly a week later, as she was slumped in her bug on a stakeout, that she had allowed herself to really consider how she felt about the ring.  She knew it wasn’t just the piece of jewelry that had freaked her out but everything that came with it: the expectations, the labels, the commitment, even the thought of a damn white picket fence and two point five kids had her palms sweating.  Then a text had interrupted her spiralling thoughts.  Killian had sent something, a joke or a suggestive comment she couldn’t remember, and Emma had realized that marriage didn’t have to be what everyone else said it was.  They could make it their own and they would make it great, just as they’d done with every other big step they’d taken in their relationship.  For the first time since she’d found the ring Emma had smiled with anticipation.

 

Less than two days later she’d spilled the secret about her find to Mary Margaret.  They’d been shopping for gifts and she’d found herself staring at the window display of a bridal shop.  True, she’d been harshly judging the style of dress on the mannequin but Mary Margaret had taken one look at the tableau and had been immediately suspicious.  Emma had wrenched several promises from her and even threatened to make a blood oath to keep it a secret before she told Mary Margaret everything.  She hadn’t been able to stop smiling the entire time.

 

The next couple of weeks had passed in breathless anticipation and nervous apprehension.  She wasn’t nervous about Killian proposing but about her friends spoiling it.  Mary Margaret hadn’t been able to keep it a secret for a full day before David knew.  Ruby had found out from Regina who had been informed by a smug David after she’d made a pointed comment about Emma and commitment.  Emma had been annoyed by them all and angry with herself for not keeping her own damn mouth shut.  It was bad enough she had ruined the surprise for herself but she didn’t want one of her big mouthed friends to ruin the entire thing for Killian.

 

Emma knew that whenever Killian proposed it would mean more to him than just asking her to spend the rest of her life with him.  He had been on that precipice before and been broken by the fall, badly.  She knew that he would not only be nervous about asking her to marry him but deep down, maybe even unconsciously, he would be dreading that it would all come crashing down around him again.  While she didn’t know when, or how, he planned to propose she would do everything in her power to make sure it went off without a hitch and with him knowing she was just as eager to spend the rest of forever together.

 

She just wished he had asked her when they’d opened presents that morning.  It had become her favorite daydream: surrounded by torn up wrapping paper, Killian gasping dramatically claiming he’d forgotten a present, him pulling the little velvet bag from a hidden spot in the depths of the tree, kneeling in front of her and Roger butting in thinking she was the one getting attention, a catch in Killian’s voice as he asked her to-

 

“Emma!  What are you doing here?”

 

Elise’s voice broke through her musings and looking up Emma saw her staring at her quizzically from behind the counter.

 

“I didn’t know you were working today,” Emma said dazed, still a little lost in her fantasy. “Merry Christmas.”

 

“You too!” Elise grinned, “But seriously, why are you here?  I thought Killian would have planned this whole elaborate Christmas morning for you two.  It’s, like, an anniversary isn’t it?”

 

Emma laughed but was somewhat surprised that Elise seemed genuine in her confusion.  Where Mary Margaret couldn’t keep a secret from David neither could Jamie from Elise and Jamie was usually in on surprises Killian had in store for her.  The fact that Elise wasn’t glancing down at her left hand or grinning conspiratorially was a dead giveaway that she knew nothing about Killian’s proposal plans.

 

“Um, kind of?  We agreed our real anniversary is the day we had our second date or first real date,” Emma shook her head, remembering their easy agreement to let their first ‘date’ be more of a jumping off point than a cause for celebration. “What about you and Jamie?  This is the second time I’ve seen you here Christmas morning.”

 

“Oh, I’m Jewish so I have no problem working today.  I usually end up joining Jamie at her parent’s for dinner though.  Plus we get time and a half which works out because I usually end up spending it all at the bars on New Year’s,” Elise gave Emma a roguish wink before tilting her head into her headset slightly. “I gotta go, apparently I have to actually work to earn my pay.”

 

“Because it’s so busy,” Emma deadpanned, looking around the nearly empty lobby.

 

“Apparently if there’s time to lean there’s time to clean or whatever,” Elise said, rolling her eyes. “Tell Killian ‘Merry Christmas’.”

 

“I will.”

 

Finally, after picking up her hot chocolate and waiting for Killian to show up, Emma left.  He hadn’t told her he would meet her there but she had assumed that if she was supposed to keep up with tradition than he would have to too.  That didn’t mean she’d be waiting around for him to saunter in with a shit eating grin either.  She was trying to decide if walking back to the apartment in the freezing cold was worth it when she heard the sound of someone running towards her.

 

“Swan!”

 

Emma turned towards Killian, glaring, “You know, if I wanted to drink mediocre hot chocolate on Christmas I could have stayed home and used the stuff Will got me for my birthday.  At least then I wouldn’t have had to get out of my pajamas before I wanted to or been by myself.”

 

“I know, love, and I’m sorry,” he huffed as he came to a stop in front of her. “Roger was being a right pain in the ass about me leaving.  She upset her water and then proceeded to track it through the apartment before deciding that my shirt would make an excellent towel as I tried to clean up after her.  I did send you a text.”

 

After giving him a suspicious look she pulled her phone out of her pocket.  She frowned as she looked at it, realizing it was set to silent for some reason.  There were several messages, mostly from Mary Margaret, and one was from him.  It was filled with typos and bad autocorrect and she could almost sense the haste with which he’d typed it.  With a snort she put her phone away and gave him an apologetic smile.

 

“Okay, you’re forgiven if I am for snapping at you,” she said as she held out her hand for him.

 

“Of course, love,” Killian grinned as he tugged her toward him into a hug. “Can we possibly go back so I can get something for the road?”

 

Emma laughed and pinched his side as she pulled back, “Fine, but you’re buying me one of those cake pops.”

 

“Swan-” he gave her a deadpan look, “-it’s not even ten in the morning.”

 

“It’s Christmas, all food rules go out the window,” she said with a dismissive wave.

 

“As you wish,” he said with a ridiculous bow and a grin.

 

“The peppermint brownie one, please,” she requested, pressing her lips against a grin at his eye roll.

 

“Anything else, your highness?  An extra dollop of whip cream for your hot chocolate?  Perhaps one of those stuffed bears Elise keeps giving to Jamie?”

 

“Just the cake pop,” Emma said.  She held out her hand, “Give me the keys and I’ll go wait in the car.”

 

“Nonsense, Swan,” Killian said quickly.  He grabbed her outstretched hand and tugged her to follow him back to the Starbucks, “We may not honor today with an anniversary celebration but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to spend a moment or two reminiscing with you.”

 

“You’re ridiculous,” she said with a shake of her head.

 

“Ah, but you love me for it,” Killian smiled as he opened the door for her.

 

“You don’t know how lucky you are that I do,” Emma murmured as she stepped gratefully back into the heated lobby.

 

The drive to Mary Margaret and David’s was uneventful.  They passed the time telling each other stories of Christmases from their past.  It was as Killian was telling her about the time he’d finally saved enough money from his first job to buy Liam a proper Christmas present that it hit Emma again how far they had come in only a year.  The same ride the the previous year had had her stubbornly refusing to share anything personal and he had done the same.  It felt good, she felt good, warm in a way that had nothing to do with the seat warmers in Killian’s car.

 

“Emma, love, wake up we’re here.”

 

Killian’s soft voice pulled her from the light sleep she’d fallen into.

 

“Hmm?” She hummed as she burrowed under what she realized was Killian’s coat.

 

“There’s no parking on this block,” he said a bit louder.  She could hear the smile in his voice as she stubbornly kept her eyes closed, “Do you want to head in and I’ll find a spot?”

 

Emma frowned as she finally opened her eyes, blinking against the sunlight.  They were idling in front of the Nolan’s house and she could easily see that Killian was right, there wasn’t a single open space along either side of the street.  She almost told him no, wanting to walk in with him, but then she remembered everyone was probably expecting her to come in with a ring on her finger.  It would be better for her to go in first and head off anyone that could ruin Killian’s surprise for her.

 

“Wow, I think it keeps getting worse every time we come out here.  Pop the trunk and I’ll get the presents,” she said quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice her sudden antsiness.

 

“They’re in the backseat,” Killian said bemused as she balled up his coat and tossed it into his lap.

 

“What?” She asked, brought up short.

 

“The presents,” he said, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “I figured they’d fare better back there than rolling around pell mell in the boot.”

 

Looking in the backseat Emma saw the carefully wrapped gifts she’d last seen under their tree.  It wasn’t much, just a few things for Mary Margaret and David and she could see the logic of putting them in the backseat, but she couldn’t figure out why Killian’s smile looked a little too wide.  Giving him a single questioning look she unbuckled her seatbelt and got out of the car, grabbing the presents from the back, and shutting the door against his eyes watching her carefully.

 

Killian waited until she was halfway up the driveway before pulling away.  Huffing a laugh into the frigid air she trudged up the mercifully shoveled drive.  It seemed it had snowed hard overnight in the suburbs and Emma found herself humming White Christmas under her breath as she let herself into the house.

 

She barely made it through the door into the enveloping warmth before Ruby’s excited shriek pierced the air.

 

“Lemme see!  Lemme see!” Ruby yelled as she skidded to a stop in front of Emma in her heels.  “How’d he do it?  Did he kneel?  Did he hide it in the tree?  Or was it around Roger’s neck?  God, please tell me it was as romantic as I’ve been imagining.”

 

Emma took a steadying breath, eternally grateful she’d gone in alone.

 

“Jesus, Ruby, let me get through the door,” Emma grumbled, pushing past Ruby and catching sight of everyone else hovering in the living room.  With a frustrated sigh she addressed them all, “He didn’t ask, so don’t say  _ anything _ when he comes in.”

 

“He didn’t ask?” Ruby’s voice went high with shocked disbelief.

 

“No,” Emma said shortly, not sure why she was suddenly feeling annoyed.   
  


“But we thought-”

 

“Well, we all thought wrong didn’t we?” Emma snapped, horrified to hear her voice shaking and feeling tears starting to gather in her eyes.

 

“Emma?  Emma, it’s okay,” Mary Margaret’s voice soothed as she rushed to her side.

 

“Please don’t say anything to Killian,” Emma whispered as she clumsily wiped away the few tears that had escaped. “Not about this or about him proposing.  I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

 

“Of course not,” Mary Margaret assured her as David grabbed the gifts from her arms.

 

“We’ll be on our best behavior,” Ruby said softly as she made an exaggerated X over her heart with a finger. “Promise.”

 

“And I promise to keep her in line,” Mulan chipped in.

 

“He can’t see that I’ve been crying,” Emma dragged her fingers under her eyes as she tried to compose herself.

 

“I’ve got the perfect solution,” Mary Margaret tugged on her elbow, leading her towards the kitchen. “David put the presents under the tree and then go keep Killian from coming in right away.  Ruby use my phone and warn Regina, tell her we’ll still use the champagne.”

 

When they entered the kitchen Mary Margaret placed Emma at one of the counters and immediately placed a cutting board, a knife, and two onions in front of her.

 

“I need you to chop those up.  Diced preferably, but we both know your idea of diced and mine are very different.”

 

Emma scoffed but was glad Mary Margaret was giving her a distraction and not pushing for an explanation.  She knew it wouldn’t last long and it was only a few moments before Mary Margaret sidled up to her a little too casually to peel potatoes over the sink.

 

“So, he didn’t ask,” Mary Margaret commented lightly before tsking. “Diced, Emma, not hacked at.”

 

“No, he didn’t,” she said sniffing, thankfully due to the onions and not her unexpected emotional state.  She carefully went back over what she’d already chopped up with her knife, contemplating her words, “I thought I’d kept my hopes from getting up, you know?  Not buying the magazines or looking at dresses online-”

 

“You did start that Pinterest board,” Mary Margaret pointed out with a wry grin.

 

“According to all those rom-coms you drag me to every girl has a dream wedding Pinterest board,” Emma huffed, stopping her assault on the onions to dab at the tears pooling in her eyes.  She knew she couldn’t entirely blame the onions for them but hoped Mary Margaret couldn’t tell, “After I found the ring I wasn’t even sure I wanted to get married.  Even after I told you I wasn’t one hundred percent.”

 

“And now?” Mary Margaret prodded gently.

 

“Now,” Emma sighed, attacking the onions once more. “Now I just want him to ask me that stupid question so we can live happily ever after.”

 

“Pfft, marriage isn’t a fairy tale, Emma.  David and I got in a fight this morning over what socks he was going to wear.  I swear he tries to wear those light up ones every year, I should just throw them out,” Mary Margaret fumed, viciously stabbing at the potato in her hand.

 

“Why don’t you?” Emma asked with a laugh.

 

“Because I’m the one that bought them for him,” Mary Margaret said with her own tinkling laugh.  Then she gave Emma a warm smile, “It was our first Christmas together and I went a little overboard with gifts.  The socks were meant to be a joke, just something a little funny amongst all the rest, but he’s brought them out every year since.  I haven’t let him wear them since we got married but it’s just not Christmas if he doesn’t try.  It’s silly but it’s tradition.”

 

Emma stared blankly at Mary Margaret as she began humming to herself over the potatoes.  She had been annoyed by Killian’s insistence of keeping up her Starbuck’s tradition but she never thought about how it had been one for him too.  He had been there the first year she’d shown up after moving to Boston but she had never asked how long he had been going before she blew into town.  It was where they had met, where they had started to get to know each other, and where she’d asked the dumbest best question of her life.  Suddenly the thought of spending a few moments in Starbucks every Christmas didn’t seem like such an annoyance.

 

“I think he might be waiting until tonight instead,” Emma blurted out, wincing as she looked furtively around to make sure no one else was in hearing range.

 

“What makes you say that?” Mary Margaret paused her peeling again to look at her.

 

“He practically forced me out of the apartment this morning with barely an explanation and he was acting a little weird in the car when we got here.”

 

“Well, technically it’s Christmas until midnight,” Mary Margaret smiled. “The day is young after all.”

 

Emma didn’t have a chance to reply when she heard the front door slam and the deep rumble of David and Killian’s voices drifted through the house.  She found herself smiling as Ruby’s enthusiastic greeting rang out followed by Mulan’s more demure one.  By the time Killian joined them in the kitchen, stopping to press a kiss to her temple before turning to Mary Margaret, her distress had melted away in the comfort and familiarity of a celebration with their friends.

 

The day passed quickly in a merry sort of happiness.  Regina’s arrival had Emma tensing in anticipation of a pointed barb about the non-engagement but miraculously she’d held her tongue.  Emma suspected it was mostly Robin’s doing since his hug was accompanied by a hearty squeeze and a knowing smile.  By the time they were seated around the table polishing off the last remnants of dessert Emma believed that her friends really could keep a secret if they actually tried.  Then she heard the tapping of a fork on glass.

 

“Now that we’ve all been filled to the brim by our gracious hostess and nearly tapped the keg dry thanks to our sot of a host-”

 

“Hey!”

 

David’s indignant protest lost some of it’s steam when his elbow hit his plate as he brought his hand up to point accusingly at Killian.  Emma tried to stifle her laugh in her napkin but lost it completely when Killian gave her an exaggerated wink as David turned three shades of red as he tried to pick up scraps of his meal off of Mary Margaret’s formerly pristine tablecloth.

 

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted-” Killian continued, “This past year has been unexpected to say the least.  I find it fitting and a bit of a shock that I find myself back in the place and with the people that have brought about some of the most wonderful changes in what was once a drab little life.”

 

“Aw, mate, I didn’t know you cared,” Robin said, with a wide but sincere grin.

 

Killian shook his head but then locked eyes with her, “But none of you lot hold a candle to my Emma.  A year ago I thought I would be a lucky man if she would have merely agreed to accompany me on a date.  Little did I know that my luck was just beginning.”

 

Emma found herself fighting a blush even as she was trying to keep from grimacing in pain as Ruby kicked her shin and Mary Margaret was pinching her thigh under the table.  Even Regina was watching her closely while Mulan donned a knowing grin.  Her only solace was that David and Robin seemed completely unaware that anything important could be happening.

 

“She has not only let me into her heart but she’s also shown me that I had nothing to fear from opening mine once more,” Killian continued, somehow missing the fidgeting and odd looks focused on them. “So I thought perhaps we should start our next year together with a bit of an adventure.”

 

With another pinch to her thigh Emma realized she was holding her breath.  As steadily as she could she let out the lungful of air, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart.

 

“Emma has shown me her beginnings and I thought it was only right that she see my own humble ones,” he said with a wide grin. “We leave on the redeye and we’ll be in London come morning!  Which unfortunately means we can’t stay to assist with the cleanup from this magnificent meal.  Sorry, David.”

 

The tremulous smile she’d had since Killian had started talking felt as if it was frozen on her face.  She could hear the over excited exclamations from her friends but it was if they were saying them from miles away.  With a great effort, knowing that Killian was waiting for any kind of reaction, she widened her smile hoped he’d mistake her hesitance as shock and surprise and not disappointment.

 

“You’re taking me to England?” Emma breathed, her voice just on the edge of steady.

 

“I am,” Killian affirmed, his voice warm.  He glanced down at his watch, “Unfortunately we need to leave soon to make it to the airport on time.  It may be Christmas but there’s still security to get through.”

 

“What about clothes? Toiletries?  My passport?” She asked, still in disbelief at the turn of events.

 

“All taken care of, love.  It’s why I sent you off this morning without me and why the presents were in the backseat.  Didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” he said proudly.

 

“What about Roger?” She asked weakly.

 

“She’s safe in the capable care of Will and Belle,” Killian answered succinctly, his eyes dancing with happiness. “It’s the reason she upset her water bowl this morning.  She’s well aware I’m going to be gone for an extended period when the suitcases get pulled from the closet and Will shows up.  It used to be far worse when I would take her to a kennel.”

 

“You know, when I bought the champagne I thought we’d be celebrating something more exciting than their vacation,” Regina sneered, sending Killian a look that bordered on a glare.

 

Emma tried not to panic as Killian’s smile twisted into a confused frown.  Out of the corner of her eye she could see the others gaping at Regina.  She was so focused on watching Killian, willing him to not connect any kind of dots, that she jumped when David abruptly stood up, his chair scraping harshly against the floor, and placed himself behind Mary Margaret.

 

“We  _ were _ going to wait and serve the champagne before telling everyone but since Regina can’t hold her tongue-” David glowered at Regina for a moment before placing his hands on Mary Margaret’s shoulders and smiling widely down at her.

 

“I’m pregnant!” Mary Margaret finished, her smile just as big.

 

Elated pandemonium broke out around the table.  Ruby was squealing in delight as everyone moved as one to surround the couple.  Emma quickly gave Mary Margaret a hug before being unceremoniously shoved aside by Ruby.  She was only able to squeeze David’s arm gently before Killian and Robin were pulling him into manly hugs.  Realizing that she finally wasn’t the focus of anyone’s attention she slipped out of the dining room.

 

She went into the bathroom but didn’t lock the door, as much as she wanted to.  There was a part of her that needed to lock herself away within the cheerfully decorated walls until her feelings sorted themselves out.  The other, louder, part of her knew that Killian would be looking for her almost immediately and she genuinely wanted him to find her.  Pressing a dampened washcloth embroidered with tiny snowflakes to the back of her neck she took deep steadying breaths, slowly calming her racing heart.  With each one she took Emma miserably realized that it wasn’t only the lack of a proposal that had her upset.

 

No matter how happy she was for David and Mary Margaret their announcement had drudged up the memories of her first foster family.  The ones who had decided their name was good enough for her but she wasn’t good enough for them.  Emma didn’t really remember the Swans, they were just smudged faces in her memory, but she could remember the feeling of rejection and heartbreak when they were the first to send her back to a place she would become painfully familiar with.

 

Emma breathed a sigh of relief when a knock sounded at the door and Killian’s voice filtered through.

 

“Swan?”

 

“It’s open,” she called out softly, knowing he was probably plastered against the door to figure out how she was doing before even seeing her.

 

Killian ducked in quickly, closing the door behind him without taking his eyes off her.  She smiled at him but judging by his frown that deepened when he saw it Emma knew she hadn’t convinced him she was okay.

 

“What’s wrong, love?” He asked gently before he dropped his gaze to his hands. “Are you- are you not happy with my surprise?  We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

 

“No! No, Killian, it’s not that,” Emma said quickly, grabbing his hands and tipping her head to catch his eyes. “I’m excited.  It was just really unexpected and then they said they were pregnant and I’m so happy for them, I am, but I felt just like I did when the Swans gave me back.  It’s stupid, I shouldn’t let my issues ruin their moment.  Let’s just go back out there, drink some champagne and then get on the road to London.”

 

“It’s not stupid,” Killian tugged her hands around his waist and pulled her close. “You have every right to feel however you want to feel about their baby or about my idiotic plan to surprise you with a two week trip out of the country.”

 

“Two weeks?  Really?” Emma snorted.

 

“Well, you don’t expect us to leave before New Year’s do you?  There’s a fair bit of Ireland I wanted to show you as well but if you truly don’t feel up to it we don’t have to go.”

 

Looking up at him she was surprised, and yet not, by the sincerity in his eyes.  He had probably been planning the trip for weeks or even months and he was willing to scrap every plan if she even hinted that she was remotely uninterested in going.  Even if to him it was her past that was keeping her down.  That, to her, somehow felt more like a promise for their future than a ring ever could.

 

“I hope you packed my good jeans,” she narrowed her eyes at him, poking him in the chest.

 

Killian huffed out a laugh, “Swan, I packed damn near your entire half of the closet.  I wasn’t going to take the chance that our trip could be ruined by the fact that your shirt and pants don’t match.”

 

“Trust me it’s what’s under the shirt and pants you should have worried about,” Emma teased.

 

“Bad form, love.  Tempting a man when you know we won’t have time to properly do anything about it.”

 

Her protest was quickly cut off by him dipping down and doing exactly what he had been accusing her of.  Before she could really lose herself in the feel of his lips and the warmth of his hands in her hair and on her lower back he pulled away.

 

“Hey, not fair,” she grumbled, leaning into him slightly.

 

“We do have a flight to catch and I think Mary Margaret would be a little disappointed if we didn’t at least take a sip of that champagne Regina so graciously brought over,” Killian quipped sarcastically, opening the door and stepping back so she could go out first.

 

Emma laughed uneasily as she lead the way back to the dining room, not sure what to say that wouldn’t start with a complaint about Regina’s attitude and end with her letting it slip that she knew he wanted to propose.  Luckily Robin was walking towards them with glasses that were almost too full in his hand as Ruby started giving a pretty lewd toast to the soon to be parents.  After a chorus of cheers and another hug for Mary Margaret and one for David Killian insisted that they had to leave.

 

Gathering their coats and whirling through their goodbyes left Emma almost dizzy.  She was also minorly relieved that she wouldn’t have to explain her feelings to Ruby and Mary Margaret again about their hopes for a proposal.  Listening to Killian excitedly explain what he had planned for them as he drove to Logan airport was enough.  Although, if he waited much longer she just might have to do it herself.


	9. New Year's Eve

As Killian waited for Emma to finish getting ready for their New Year’s Eve dinner date he found himself lost in thought.  They still had plenty of time until their reservation but in his eagerness and nervousness he was already dressed, left with nothing to do but wait and ruminate.  Every few minutes he found himself checking his pocket, finding his mother’s ring safely tucked away each time.  He thought he knew what Emma’s answer would be when he asked her to marry him but he had also been confident about what Milah’s answer was going to be until it all gloriously imploded in front of him.  Despite knowing that Emma was not Milah in any way, shape, or form he couldn’t help the doubts that kept swirling in his head.

 

The fact that he wanted to marry Emma was not in question.  It had taken nearly half a day of digging through their storage unit to find the ring but the quest had only hardened his resolve.  Will’s grumbling complaints and questioning of his sanity hadn’t come close to dissuading him either.  When Killian had finally found the ring, practically yelling in triumph, he had almost gone immediately to propose to Emma leaving Will behind to clean up his mess.  Luckily, and a touch uncharacteristically, Will had quietly implored Killian to wait gently reminding him how his romantic impulsiveness had gone over the first time.

 

It had stung at first but Killian knew that Will had only been looking out for him.  Will had been the one to piece him back together over months of drunken rages and depression after the fallout Milah had left behind.  Killian trusted him nearly as much as he had trusted Liam when he had still been alive and therefore reluctantly heeded his advice.  Instead of proposing to Emma on the spot when he returned home he carefully placed the ring in his safe, locking it away until he could be absolutely certain as to what her answer would be.

 

He had realized he would have the perfect opportunity to find that out when Emma had announced that she wanted to decorate their apartment for Christmas.  The morning they had started he had moved the ring from his safe to his toolbox before taking Roger out for her walk.  An hour into their decorating she had disappeared from the living room and returned seemingly moments later looking pale and agitated as she mumbled something about needing nails.  Before he’d even had a chance to climb down from the ladder he was on she was out the door, Roger whining in her wake.

 

Sherlock he was not but it wouldn’t have taken a genius to deduce that Emma had found the ring.  The toolbox had been haphazardly returned to its shelf, backwards and with one of its clasps half closed.  The ring had still been in the small velvet pouch it had been kept in since his mother’s death but instead of being half under a screwdriver it was on top of all the hardware inside.  For longer than he cared to admit to Will later he had stared at the little bag, wondering if history had been about to repeat itself.  It had only been when Roger started scratching at the door moments before Emma returned that he shoved the bag into his pocket and returned the toolbox with about as much care as Emma had.  Her half frozen appendages had nearly been enough to keep his thoughts from spiralling into despair.

 

Then, almost a week later, Emma had come home from a stakeout with a wide smile.  He had been helpless to return it when he hadn’t seen such a sight since before she had found the ring.  When he had asked her about her seemingly good mood she had merely shrugged her shoulders and said it had been a good day.  Her good mood persisted after that and he realized that she had quite possibly come to a favorable conclusion about the ring’s implications.

 

Killian’s suspicions had been confirmed a mere two days later.  He had been in his office, booking various hotels and lining up rental cars for the trip he had been secretly planning as his Christmas present to Emma.  On top of his concerns about Emma’s reaction to his proposal he had no idea how receptive she would be to him whisking her out of the country for two weeks.  Especially when he’d never given her an inclination that he wanted to return to the country of his birth.  Then Jamie had burst into his office babbling nonsense about some pins and how he had kept her in the dark.

 

It had taken several minutes and a crash course about some kind of online hobby site for him to understand what had Jamie up in arms.  After swearing to her that he hadn’t asked Emma anything more life altering than if they should switch Roger’s food she had left, suspecting nothing.  As much as he wanted to share his tentative plans for a proposal he knew Jamie wouldn’t be able to contain her excitement, much to the detriment of keeping things a secret.  Even though he had kept his plans to himself it hadn’t stopped him from staring blankly at pictures of wedding dresses splashed across his computer screen, each one apparently curated with care by Emma.  It had been the kind of sign he had been waiting for and he had felt as if his brain had ceased working.

 

Much to Killian’s dismay there had been no other signs that he had been able to easily distinguish from what Emma had called ‘holiday cheer’.  His only encouragement had been the pictures that had been regularly added to her collection, a ‘board’ as Jamie had called it.  He had been amazed to see its expansion as bouquets, centerpieces, fancy chalkboards, and cakes had joined the multitude of dresses.  It had been just as amazing to see that not one ostentatious ring had been included, something he gathered to be a very good sign about Emma’s approval of his mother’s ring.

 

A week before Christmas he had received a highly unexpected visit from David.  While David worked for the Boston Police it was a rare sight to see the man at the harbor.  When he had immediately launched into pointed questions about Killian’s intentions and plans for the future it had been a bit more expected.  Killian hadn’t been surprised that David knew about his plans to propose, Emma had repeatedly complained to him about her group of friend’s loose lips.  What he had been surprised by was the frightening intensity with which David had scrutinized his every answer, even the most mundane of the lot.  In the end David had left assured that Killian wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with Emma.  He also wholly approved of Killian’s romantic notion of waiting until they were in England on New Year’s Eve to propose.  He had also assured Killian that even if Emma wasn’t yelling it from the rooftops she was just as eager to spend her life with him.

 

Despite the reassurances Killian had worried right up until he walked up the drive to David and Mary Margaret’s home on Christmas Day, mostly about Mary Margaret knowing and sharing with Emma that the proposal was rapidly approaching but still partially about what Emma’s answer would be.  He had been lost in his thoughts when David had barreled out of the house and dragged him protesting to the backyard.  Killian had barely had his footing under him before David’s hand had clapped over his mouth and he had pointed silently to a window over his shoulder.  It hadn’t been long before he had heard Emma and Mary Margaret’s voices drifting out to them.

 

David had merely nodded and they had both listened, Killian a tad guiltily, as Emma confessed that she hadn’t wanted to get married when she had found the ring.  Killian had felt as if his heart had plummeted down to his toes until he heard her admit, in an almost annoyed tone, that she truly wanted him to ask.  It had taken David tugging on his elbow to get him to move, even though he felt as though his heart was soaring and had taken his body along for the ride.  He would have gladly stayed under the window listening to Emma all but say yes for the rest of the day but he was also eager for time to move on towards the moment where he would finally ask her to marry him.

 

He had finally seen a glimpse of Emma’s exuberance with his own eyes when he had made the grand announcement of their trip.  The fidgeting around the table had barely filtered into his awareness as he had watched Emma’s eyes fill with a cautious hope.  Killian had almost scrapped every careful plan he’d made and asked her to marry him in that moment.  Then the small, weasley voice in the back of his mind had piped up throwing one final desperate jab at him.  It had warned him to wait, wait until they weren’t surrounded by people he knew in case he had misunderstood everything, even Emma’s confession in the kitchen, and she would reject him.  It had been only when Emma had slipped quietly away after David and Mary Margaret’s announcement that he truly realized what a fool he’d been to listen.

 

For nearly their whole trip Killian had to almost physically stop himself from dropping to his knee at practically every romantic location across London.  He had kept the ring on him from the moment he’d unloaded their bags at Logan Airport, slipping it from his carry-on into his pocket while Emma had been distracted complaining about the exorbitant fees of long term parking.  At the time he had rationalized it to himself by not trusting such an important thing to be left to the whims of flight attendants and pilfering passengers.  As the trip continued and he transferred it from pocket to pocket, ultimately removed from its little velvet bag, he had finally admitted to himself that he was fairly itching to do it.  Only the thought of his already rationalized and nitpicked plan had kept him from proposing a dozen times or more.

 

“Killian?  Can you come zip me up?”

 

Emma’s call from the bathroom startled him back to their hotel room.  On his way to the bathroom he nearly tripped over his own feet when he saw that nearly an hour had passed since the last time he had checked the clock.  He was glad to see there was still time to spare before their reservation but it wasn’t much.

 

“Are you almost ready, love?  We should leave soon if we’re to make the restaurant on ti-”

 

Killian stopped short, the words dying on his tongue as he caught sight of Emma in a red dress he had never seen before.  He hadn’t been joking when he had told her that he had packed most of her clothing, using his carry-on for his own, and he would have been hard pressed to forget the striking dress that Emma was wearing.  It was easy to see that once he closed the zip the bodice would hug her figure like a second skin, as the long sleeves along her arms already showed.  The skirt of the dress flared out from her hips by some miracle of fashion that he didn’t understand but appreciated all the same.  The hem gently brushing the tops of her knees as she turned to look at him with a cheshire grin.

 

“We’re not going to get anywhere on time if you keep staring at me like that,” she said coolly as she presented her back to him as she tucked her curled hair over her shoulder.

 

“You look-” Killian started, not even caring how in awe he sounded.

 

“I know,” Emma answered with a smirk, shimmying her shoulders a bit. “I promise you I’ll look even better when it’s on right.”

 

“I’m not sorry for staring, Swan-” he said with a chuckle, stepping forward to finally zip the dress closed, “-but I am sorry I somehow overlooked this marvel while I was packing your things.”

 

“You didn’t,” she said simply as she moved her hair back over her shoulder.  She smiled as she gently pushed past him into the room, “I bought it when you told me about our date tonight.  Oh, the wonders of online shopping and delivery services.  You should try it sometime.”

 

“While I may not be on social media it doesn’t mean I’m a hopeless case when it comes to the internet, love.  I planned this trip using it after all,” Killian said with an eyeroll as she sat on the bed to slip on her heels.

 

“And it’s been pretty perfect so far,” Emma said softly.

 

“Even with the Eye incident?” He asked, his brow raised in disbelief.

 

“Even with the Eye incident,” she confirmed. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

 

The restaurant was just as Killian remembered it.  While it wasn’t the poshest or most expensive in London it held a much more sentimental value: Liam had taken him there as a celebratory dinner for being accepted to a university in America.  It hadn’t been the last time Killian had seen his brother but it was one of the few memories he had where the both of them had been exceedingly happy with bright hopes for their futures.  Within a year Killian was in the States struggling to maintain his scholarship and Liam was buried six feet underground.

 

Their meal was excellent from what he could tell.  In truth he could have been eating sawdust and chalk for all that he tasted.  From the moment they had been seated his nerves had been shot and he’d had to put forth all his concentration on keeping a conversation going with Emma.  His only relief was that while the waiter eyed him with wariness Emma didn’t appear to notice that anything was wrong.

 

When the waiter arrived with the menu for dessert Killian had worked himself into such a state of distractedness he became belatedly aware of an unnatural hush that had fallen over the restaurant.  He looked at Emma to ask what was going on but found that her focus was on a couple two tables over from them.  As he turned to see for himself he felt his stomach drop and all the blood drain from his face.  There, not twenty feet from them, was a man down on his knee with a diamond ring the size of a small moon nestled in a velvet box gazing adoringly up at the teary eyed woman sitting at the table.

 

“-the honor of becoming my wife.”

 

Killian sat horrorstruck as the woman nearly sobbed as she nodded her head in assent.  The other diners broke out in applause and cheers as the man stumbled to his feet to envelope his now fiancee in a hug.  He wasn’t aware he was clenching his hand into a fist until he felt Emma’s warm fingers trying to loosen it.

 

“Let’s get out of here,” she said softly, nodding to the waiter who placed their bill on the table instead of the dessert menu.

 

As they walked back to their hotel Killian felt like an absolute fool.  Every opportunity he’d had for an impromptu proposal would have been perfect but in waiting for his carefully planned moment at the restaurant he’d been outdone by a stranger and his ostentatious ring.  He felt like even more of an idiot as Emma walked quietly by his side with not even a single comment about what they had witnessed.  When she paused at a window display of a mannequin family trussed up in the latest winter attire he couldn’t help dipping his hand into his pocket to assure himself that the ring was still there, that he would find the time to arrange a perfect proposal.

 

“I never thought I’d have this,” Emma said, dropping her head to his shoulder. “I’d look at stuff like this and think: ‘nah you’ll never be as happy as these dumb plastic faces with their dumb plastic families.’  At one point I didn’t even think I’d be able to afford the clothes they were wearing, even when it was in the little displays of thrift stores.  Now here I am, ordering dresses online and travelling through England with a guy I really, really love.”

 

“Emma, I-”

 

“I’m going to say yes-” she interrupted without looking at him, “Whenever you decide to ask, I’ll say yes.”

 

Killian froze as Emma burrowed closer into him, twisting until she was wrapped around him, her head under his chin.

 

“How?”

 

“I found the ring, a few weeks ago.  I’ve also never seen someone check their pockets as much as you have in the past week,” she said with a muffled laugh.  Her hand circled the wrist of the hand that was still in his pocket grasping the ring tightly, “I know what happened with Milah has you worried.  I just wanted to let you know that you shouldn’t and I can wait until you’re ready to ask.”

 

He huffed out an amused laugh dropping his forehead to hers, “I had a grand plan, you know.”

 

“I know.”

 

“There was a whole speech planned-”

 

“I’m sure there was.”

 

“I was going to get down on my knee-”

 

“You still can.”

 

“And I’d hoped that you’d be as tearful as that woman back at the restaurant.”

 

“I’ll get there,” Emma pulled back to look at him, beaming. “But you need to ask me something first.”

 

Killian thought of all the plans he’d thought of over the weeks.  He thought of his worries and self-doubts and the questioning of himself.  It all melted away as he gazed down at Emma, who indeed had tears gathering in her eyes.  Without preamble he stepped back, pulled the ring out of his pocket, and dropped to his knee.

 

“Marry me?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

There wasn’t snow drifting romantically from the sky, the people around them didn’t stop to capture the moment on their cameras, he was fighting back tears as Emma let hers slide down her cheeks, and the knee of his pants were soaked through but Killian didn’t care.  As he stood and slid the ring onto her finger and she pulled him into a passionate kiss he knew he had worried about absolutely nothing.  He decided to save his speech for the next morning, a good start for a new year.  They had some pre-midnight celebrating to do first.


	10. Epilogue

Killian sighed and dragged a weary hand over his face.  When he had left his very comfortable bed, not to mention his very alluring wife, behind that morning he’d had every intention of only spending an hour in the office at most.  Looking at the clock he was dismayed to see that it was going on four hours, with no immediate end in sight.  He silently vowed to himself to never again leave for a week without putting someone competent in charge.

 

Immediately Killian felt ashamed at his thoughts.  It hadn’t been Will’s fault that everything had practically gone to hell the one week he had returned to Boston to check in with the business there.  Killian couldn’t even bring himself to remotely regret the expansion up into Maine but he sometimes wished he could allow himself just a moment to relinquish his need for control and relax for one bloody day.  Even if he knew it would be more for Emma’s benefit than his own.

 

Emma had supported him wholeheartedly from the moment he had voiced the idea of expanding his business.  The tours he had been doing in Boston Harbor had taken off after the Mayor’s Halloween party five years before and as a result his company had reached heights of success he hadn’t dreamed of.  He had offhandedly mentioned the thought opening a second location to Emma late one night only a few months after they had married.  She had taken him completely by surprise when she had told him that she thought it was an excellent idea and then even more so when she had leapt up from their bed to grab a notebook to begin writing down places she thought people would want boating tours.  Killian had been too stunned to contribute that night but he remembered thinking that if he hadn’t already married her he would have done it the second the courthouse had opened the next morning.

 

It had taken another two years, multiple loan applications, and more frustrations than he thought he could handle before he was finally able announce the opening of the Maine location.  He and Emma had chosen a small seaside town called Storybrooke due to the large number of tourists that flocked there in the summer and that it was just far enough away from Portland and Old Orchard Beach to encourage said tourists to charter day trips down the coast for a visit.  Storybrooke was not only an ideal location for his business but also for them personally.  Their dreams of owning a home had been realized not long after the decision to open in Storybrooke had been made and Emma had been happily employed as a deputy in the sheriff’s office since they’d made their move up the eastern seaboard.  Whenever Killian had a moment to stop and breathe he found himself amazed at the life he often times felt he had merely had the good fortune of stumbling into.  Shaking himself out of his reverie he turned back to the papers piled up on his desk.

 

They were in the height of their first official summer season.  Things had been going well enough that Killian had believed that he could spend a week in Boston without disrupting how smoothly things had been running in Maine.  It was only when he had returned that he realized he’d been a touch overconfident and hadn’t quite prepared Will as thoroughly as he should have.

 

Will and Belle had moved to Maine at the insistence of Emma and the promise of jobs from Killian.  They had both been struggling to find steady work and a place to live in Boston and out of all their friends they were the only ones willing and able to move to Storybrooke with them.  While Will had no sailing experience or knowledge about boats and ships at all Killian knew he had an uncanny ability to talk his way into a good deal which gave him a wily head for business.  By hiring him it had allowed Killian some of his freedom to return to captaining the sailing excursions himself, something he had reluctantly given up once the business had taken off years before.  Belle on the other hand was highly proficient on the computer and from the minute she’d been on the payroll she had overhauled his entire system: making bookings more efficient, cutting costs due to redundancies when ordering supplies, and updated the payroll software to one that wasn’t over a decade old.  She had joined him in Boston to update the computers there which had led to the backup of paperwork due to Will having no clue how to enter anything into any of the software his wife had installed.

 

When Killian had dropped Belle off at her house late the afternoon before he had almost immediately received a litany of texts from Will.  There was a lot of waffling, too many ‘mates’, and three promises of pints at the local bar, The Rabbit Hole, before Will finally got to the point that there was a bit of extra work awaiting him at the office.  Killian hadn’t been too concerned at the time, more anxious to get back to Emma and the luxury of sleeping in his own bed instead of the somewhat lumpy guest mattress at David and Mary Margaret’s than anything.  He had merely thought that Will had been over exaggerating what awaited him.  Glancing down at the multitude of numbers and post-its still strewn across his desk after the hours he had already spent sorting through them he felt Will hadn’t warned him enough.  Just as he was about to pick up the sheaf of receipts from the most recent supply run a light knock sounded at his door.

 

“I told you, Gwen, unless it’s an emergency that the police or coast guard can’t handle I’m not here!” He called out without bothering to lift his head.

 

“What makes you think you can handle anything that those trained professionals can’t?”

 

“Swan!”

 

Killian looked up with a wide grin to see Emma sliding into his office and closing the door behind her.  She was dressed casually, her hair in a low ponytail, a gentle smile on her face and a coffee cup in her hand.

 

“You weren’t answering any of my texts so I thought I’d come investigate,” Emma said with mild accusation.

 

“Apologies, deputy, but I had placed my phone on silent to avoid being distracted by my beautiful and endlessly patient wife.  It won’t happen again,” he said contritely, adopting a doe eyed look begging for forgiveness.

 

“I sent a message to Belle-” she informed him with a good natured shake of her head as she placed the steaming mug in front of him.  She gave him a peck on the lips before sitting herself down on the corner of his desk, “She said she’ll be here soon to fix Will’s mess.”

 

“There was no need to do that, love.  I almost have things back under control,” he sighed.  Turning the mug so he could grab the handle with his left hand he took a small sip as he grabbed the receipts he had been reaching for before Emma made her appearance with his right, “Next time I go to Boston for a week I’m just going to shut down operations here.  No need to try and do any business when I’m stuck sorting through the aftermath of Hurricane Scarlet.”

 

He smiled up at her but faltered when he noticed that her own smile was somewhat off.

 

“I truly am sorry, love.  I honestly didn’t think things would take this long to untangle-”

 

“It’s fine, Killian-” Emma’s smile became a bit more sincere but her eyes still looked troubled, “How are Elise and Jamie?”

 

“Most likely faring the same as when you asked me last night, Swan,” Killian said only somewhat jokingly. “As are the whole Nolan clan and the Fas.  Is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah, yeah-” she waved his concern away and gave him another smile but it was too wide, too fake, “I’m a little tired is all.  Someone kept me up late last night and then left way too early this morning.  Do you want more coffee?”

 

Killian frowned.  Emma was fidgeting slightly, her heel tapping lightly on the side of his desk as she twirled her wedding rings around her finger.  He looked down at the cup of coffee and was relieved to see that he had truly only had the one sip instead of drinking the whole thing without noticing.

 

“Perhaps you’d better have if you’re truly feeling tired.”

 

“What?  No!” Emma winced, “No, I really don’t need it but if you don’t want it-”

 

She looked almost hurt as she said it and Killian immediately pulled the mug closer, “I never said I didn’t want it.  Are you sure you’re alright Emma?”

 

He watched her closely as she seemed to come to a decision.  She squared her shoulders and gave him a much warmer smile than before.

 

“I’m fine and when Belle gets here and kicks you out of the office I’ll be even better.  Do you want me to wait here or should I go admire my dinghy?”

 

“She’s a ship, love,” Killian groaned.  He was still concerned about her strange behavior but knew pushing her about it would make her less likely to immediately tell him what was wrong, “I’d prefer you to stay here.  Though perhaps not sitting on half the papers I need.”

 

“Oops, sorry,” she said as she slipped off the desk, not looking the least bit apologetic.

 

Killian shook his head and set the receipts he was still clutching in his hand down in front of him.  He transferred the coffee cup to his right hand and was about to take a sip when he realized that the mug was one he’d never seen before.  The ones they kept at the office were plain white ones and the one he favored at home was black with a gold anchor.  The mug in his hand was a deep navy color with some lettering done in gold rope.  Pulling the mug away from his lips he noticed Emma stiffen slightly in his periphery but he focused instead on reading the script along the side.

 

_ My daddy shore is reely great! _

 

Every muscle seemed to go on lockdown as his eyes skimmed over the words again and again.  All Killian could think about was how Emma had purposefully used that mug for his coffee which meant that she had gone out specifically looking for a mug like that.  Which meant that she had known that she was-

 

He couldn’t finish that thought.  It wasn’t as though it should have come as a surprise, though.  They had been trying for nearly a year, ever since the birth of the Nolan’s daughter and the feeling that they both had of wanting a child of their own.  Killian’s hand began to shake as he read the mug one final time and finally allowed himself to believe that his wonderful, beautiful, amazing wife was-

 

“Pregnant.”

 

“Killian?”

 

Looking up at Emma he realized he had whispered his thought out loud.  She was watching him carefully, the diamond solitare of her engagement ring being spun so quickly around her finger it was almost a blur.  Then he looked into her eyes and saw her joy, tempered a bit by worry, but still somehow complete and practically bursting out of her.  He finally understood why people said that pregnant women seemed to glow, his Swan was radiant.

 

“Emma, is this… are you truly…”

 

“Pregnant?” Her eyes crinkled as a true smile bloomed. “Yeah, it was confirmed by the doctor on Friday.”

 

“Confirmed,” Killian whispered in awe.  He placed the mug carefully down on his desk before placing his hand gently over her lower stomach, eyes flitting between her face and where his hand was resting, “How far along are you?”

 

“About six weeks.  I took a few tests before you left for Boston but I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure and then I really wanted to wait until today,” Emma’s eyes glittered with happiness as her hand came to rest over his own.

 

“Today?” He asked puzzled.

 

“I was going to put a bib on Roger but I thought you wouldn’t put it together as quickly,” she shrugged and then laughed. “I also forgot you still don’t have a handle on holidays unless they’ve been put on your phone’s calendar.  Here, let me.”

 

Before he could question her further she snatched his phone off his desk and began swiping the pad of her finger over the screen.  Figuring she’d show him once she was done he went back to focusing on the slight rounding of her stomach that could have well been merely in his imagination.  He let his hand slide to her hip as his ran his thumb in gentle circles over her stomach.

 

“There, now you’ll always have a reminder,” she said proudly handing him his phone.

 

Killian took it from her and reluctantly looked at the calendar app she had left open.  There in bold letters in the little box for that day’s date were the words ‘Father’s Day’.  His breath hitched and he hastily put down his phone before standing and gently cupping Emma’s face in his hands.

 

“Father, I’m going to be a father,” he said in wonder with what he knew was a dopey smile on his face. “And you a mum.  We’re going to be parents!”

 

“Yeah, we really are.”

 

They were both still smiling widely when he brought his lips to hers.  He still needed tend to the piles of papers on his desk, there was a list forming in his mind of new renovations that to be done on their home, and there was an overwhelming sense that he truly had no idea what being a father entailed but there was one thing Killian knew for sure: he would always thank his lucky stars for that Christmas Day six and a half years before when Emma decided she needed his help and he was only too happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic started out as a CSSS gift and look how far it's come. This is the end as I intended it to be and I hope you, dear reader, have enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it.


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